I stumbled over your train of thought. Angry at first, I swore under my breath, holding my ankle in pain. I looked around, ready to give you a piece of my mind, but you were not near, and you were a stranger anyway. How was I supposed to recognise you? I picked your thoughts up and put them in my bag. I wasn’t stealing your mind; I was just hiding it from curious onlookers. Your vulnerability made you an easy target for most, but I was there to protect you. I patted the bag and made my way home. On my journey, your thoughts were shaken and twisted, and once home, I was left with an intricate ball of thoughts that I couldn’t unfurl and didn’t understand. Carefully, I placed them in a box.
With a box of thoughts on my shelf, I sat and waited for you to find me. It took a while, but you whispered your way into my heart. Still a stranger, I felt that I had something that belonged to you. Your muddled thoughts were still safe in my home, and I was ready to return them. However, something stopped me from doing so. I had seen the hurt, and I had felt the pain. Maybe your thoughts had not been lost, but you had thrown them out? How could I know?
One night, the moon was shining bright; I decided that it was time. I knew you well and liked you a lot. I sighed and grabbed the box. Uncertain, I bit my lip while I pushed it to you? You grinned and opened the lid. The surprise on your face is something I will never forget. The content of the box was a neat train of thought. They had spread out in the dark. Confusion and curiosity got the best of you. Gently you ran a finger across the past, then, with two hands, you lifted it out of the box, looked at me, and greedily devoured it all.
What would happen next? Would you run, or would you stay? Would you tell and scream and cry? Would you simply ask me why? I braced myself for anything. But then your empty eyes filled with emotions. “You saved my mind, you healed my thoughts,” you stuttered. I shrugged and nodded.
(I can’t sleep. Too much pain… Sorry to bother you with weird writings)