I'm Really Glad I Did Not Tattoo

Perhaps Without The Lows, The Highs Could Not Be Reached.

I Couldn’t Get The Words Exactly Right; I Only Remembered Wishing That Jacob Were My Brother So That We Could Love Each Other Without Any Confusion Or Pain.

Though There Was No Sound, There Was A Change. The Atmosphere, Which Had Gone Tense At My Accusation, Relaxed. I Wondered How I Knew This. I Had A Strange Sensation That I Was Somehow Receiving More Than My Five Senses Were Giving Me - Almost A Feeling That There Was Another Sense, On The Fringes, Not Quite Harnessed. Intuition? That Was Almost The Right Word. As If Any Creature Needed More Than Five Senses.

For Some Reason, My Temper Was Hardwired To My Tear Ducts. I Usually Cried When I Was Angry, A Humiliating Tendency.

Silently, I Lifted My Doggy Bowl Off The Floor. Then, With A Quick, Powerful Flip Of My Wrist, I Threw It Into The Back Of Blondie’s Head So Hard That – With An Earsplitting Bang – It Smashed Flat Before It Ricocheted Across The Room And Snapped The Round Top Piece Off The Thick Newel Post At The Foot Of The Stairs.