Into The Wreckage – Daffni Gingerich (of Daffniblog)

She wades in her black sheets the way someone would look if they were stranded from a wreckage. She survives with glistening skin and an octopus tangled in her hair. It’s no miracle. She’s eaten raw meat maybe even gnawed at her own flesh. But she raises her arms overhead to be saved the way she did when she let got stuck under those floats as a child. The experiment was a flop. A flop like no other but she still admires a drowning Willy Wonka persona. Little men could sing to her in her dreams. That Abby, we’re a lot more alike than I care to admit. The black sheet tangles around her left ankle which causes her to stir awake. The apartment is quiet. A leaf drifts to the ground outside her window. She reaches to the heavens for one of those stretches that make your body shake and collapses back into the wreckage.

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Published by grumpygorman

I am a Social Worker by day and an artist/writer by night. I use the written word in an attempt to make sense of the secret worlds and dysfunctional dynamics that lurk beneath the facades of our daily interactions. I am not sure how my writing styles are characterized, nor am I overly concerned about it. I am immensely enthusiastic about music and often connect better with songs than I do people. I also have an intense appreciation for quality wines and whiskies, frequently consuming them in excess. I like things that smell good and struggle to manage the symptoms of a life-long relationship with depression. So, why "grumpygorman"? Spend some time here and find out...

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