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March 3, 2013

you're on the floor


Today, I simply laid down, defeated in the foyer, as Pamela went to the restroom.  Thankfully, my trusty dog, Evee, was right there to comfort me.

Pamela came out of the bathroom a few minutes later.  Evee nosed around my shoulder.  "Oh."  Pamela stood by and looked at me, and I simply turned to face her, my cheek still in the carpet.  "You know, it's really irritating to talk to you when you're like this."

Without moving my head, I looked at the tips of my toes, the wall right in front of me, then her.  "I'm sorry."

Pamela started to walk away.  "It's fine.  It's just--"  She stopped to look down at me.  "I'll just talk to you later," she decided.  She started to make her way to her room, and I stretched out an arm in her direction.

I cleared my throat.  She stopped.

"Yes?" she asked.

"Are you mad at me?"

Pamela looked a little irritated but she contained it.  "No.  I'm not mad at you."

I pulled my arm back to my side.  "Okay."



Photo via Gemma Correll tumblr.