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"...

"The sheer exhaustion of holding on to conscious thought when I could  slip quietly below the surface of lucid.  Who would know if I did or care for that matter?"  I looked at her as she kept on talking about school and my future and what I should do about Matt. She didn't realize that I'd tuned her out after the first few words.  To me, she was like a television on mute.  She kept on talking and assuming that someone was listening wheither she had the evidence to it or not.

I could be sitting here having sex with myself. and she'd have never noticed.

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from

Mother's Day. Just alittle brunch and sweet tea.

by CAnne Ford

5-9-11

all rights reserved by the author

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