The original text. Unaltered, ☜ except where noted.

Contents ☞ πŸ““

Chapter Six 🏠

Cover of a Japanese Magazine.

Because the Hunk was the first person I saw once I decided to leave my house and be really friendly, I had made a mistake and used up all my intentions on the wrong person. So when I got home I put on my nightgown and threw up all afternoon, trying to still the demands of my brain with frequent offerings from my stomach. What I threw up looked suspiciously like the stuff on the street corner that I had been standing in. All that afternoon the song I had heard playing on his car radio when he rolled down the window kept repeating and winding into Debbie’s song in my mind, even when I retched: β€œOut came the sun … β€œ I think I can see clearly now … And the Winky Dinky spider was sitting on the spout, grinning and sunning himself. Now, one of the really bad things about these headaches is the constant repetition of a melody over and over in my head like a record skipping. Or it is as if my thoughts, which usually come one at a time, turning slowly across a lighted radio dial, suddenly come on at once. I hear all the static, songs, outside noises, and voices, along with the regular thoughts that keep coming, because I’m still hurtling through time with the rest of the world, even though I’ve fallen on the conveyor belt instead of standing at attention.

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