At the coffee shop. Puhg just left. He laughed as he went. I was chattering on and on about something, god knows what to be honest. Sometimes I can’t stop. I wish I could, but on these mornings, before 9 AM, I’m blooming with so many thoughts, grandstanding about art and capitalism and theorizing about myself and everyone we know. I started laughing too and we just nodded at each other. As he stood, he kissed my head and reassured me, “There’s nothing wrong with you.”
I chuckled nervously because what kind of person must be reassured nothing is wrong with them, besides a person who is assuredly defective? Puhg shrugged, perhaps reading my mind, “You look at a platypus, and think it’s pretty weird, but you don’t think something is wrong with it.”
