Flying and Embarrassment

There is a belief hereabouts, that the worst of the lot should be tossed out of the window, with no consideration whatsoever. It would spoil the others, if it is allowed to stay inside. I was worried that mine was going to be that one. Every night I would end up thinking of the most embarrassing situations I’d been in and then as I rubbed my forehead, I’d always end up more convinced than before that mine was going to be the one. “Oh why did I have to open my mouth at all?”, and “Shit, I should have tried some more.” As I’d become more convinced, all those times I could have easily done better would come to haunt me with a friendly jab on my overly relaxed abdomen. I’d double up, knees touching my chin and I’d imagine all kinds of superheroes and deities, doing their nightly rounds around my house to protect me. “What a special little piece of shit you must be to deserve their services”, I’d tell myself, and it was funny. Then I’d think of how I had wished for one day to be able to tell that beautiful girl in my class that I actually had superpowers. I could fly, and I haven’t told anyone else. She’d be so impressed, and I’d have a weight off my chest. “Wow. What a special little piece of flying shit you are”, I grin stupidly and try to think of some juice-less mathematics like stuff to equate with this awkward mess that I want to get out of. Oh infinity! Infinity, what a thing… Can I divide infinity with infinity? What kind of sense does that make…


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