Daffni Gingerich/Daffniblog


Turned around with my arms crossed. I’m mad and all I can think about is telling him I’m never reading his stuff again. He and I both know that won’t happen. But even so I’m not responding when I do. I leave and buy the entire collection of Roald Dahl’s children’s books at a used book store. My plan is to avoid thoughts of him and when I do think of him, I’ll send some text restating that I’m mad and he needs to do something about it. If he doesn’t respond I’ll just flush my phone and that will show him for sure. I don’t need to explain my actions, it’s art, and art needs no sense. Right? Laying in bed I stare into the night. I watch the angels dance and the demons tap shoulders to cut in. I sigh, a little jealous, a little wonder struck. The…

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