Tingles In The Breeze

by

Aye, lass. It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood. The consonants roll off your tongue in just the right fashion, the warmth of the sun is complemented perfectly by the breeze kissing your skin just so.

Aye, me bonnie girl. Ain’t often times like these roll ’round, the day marked by that promising sensation just ‘twixt lonelinesss and curiosity. Anything could happen and anyone could be the right person to talk to.

On a less prosaic note, why is it that the people I choose to talk to so often seem to defy my expectations of what constitutes a normal, healthy conversation ‘twixt strangers? Walk a few feet ahead of me without making eye contact, mutter under your breath and smile strangely to yourself– am I difficult to talk to or are you merely uncomfortable that the illusion of an impermeable bubble cast ’round yourself is just that, a phantasm conjured to protect you from contact with others?

I’m in a strange mood. I’d rather feel driven.

One Response to “Tingles In The Breeze”

  1. annoying Says:

    I can’t help but think of ‘Talk Like a Pirate Day’ for some reason. It’s a little early for it, but not by much, so maybe that explains it.

    Also, for some reason, I get the feeling the speaker is a ghost. I can’t explain that either.

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