Living

Two of Cups

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There are a dozen more like this, fractured moments when I realized that other people thought about themselves in a way I didn’t. They noticed things that happened to their bodies and, more terribly, could explain why their emotions were reacting in certain ways or how they had changed over time. I was young when I realized that there was an entire set of internal data that, by circumstance or nature, I struggled to notice and could not fathom how to read. 

Living

Dreamworld Visitations

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If I’m lucky, they’ll tell stories of the journeys they take across landscapes as alien as anything in Oz. “I ended up in someone’s garden,” they explain. “Only they were a sort of – scarecrow accordion? I apologized, and they let me cut through their house.” “Why did you need to go through their house?” I ask, and they pause, thoughtful. “Because that was the easiest way to get to you.”