These days, I'm only half here.
Half being the amount of the stimuli I am capable of processing.
Here being the external world.
Michael will finish a sentence. I am aware that he has finished the sentence, but I'll respond either with, "Will you repeat that?" or some nod/smile combination out of shame. I can listen and hear him just fine, but my brain is not performing the comprehend function.
Same goes for books. I have at least five books started right now and none finished. I read a chapter, a paragraph, or a sentence and by the end of it all I have to ask, "What just happened?" I can only reread something so many times before fantasizing about stuffing it in a paper shredder.
Cut to my recent obsession with shorts.
It's called flash fiction.
Extra short short stories.
I found a collection that my mind can digest.
AM/PM by Amelia Gray
This collection makes me feel a little voyeuristic.
For those of you that find yourself people watching and dropping eaves for enjoyment, you'll love AM/PM. Imagine 120 opportunities, day and night, to be an empathic fly on the wall in the most intimate moments between friends and lovers, and with oneself. Whether these moments are hilarious or heartbreaking, they're all totally insightful, in 150 words or less.
Olivia dreams that her body becomes pliable enough that she can stretch very thin and cover most of the rooms of the house. Her body is so thin that the bones are clearly visible, and the veins stretch, and the blood has more distance to travel and as a result, the edges of her body are very cold. Reginald opens the front door, removes his shoes, and takes only one step before recoiling in horror at the chilly mass that is Olivia's body, stretched and waiting. In Olivia's dreams, she controls every aspect of her life.