On Psyche, Time-Bombs and Making Marks
Posted On: Saturday, April 14, 2012 - Chaconians
I adjusted the top sleeve of the sweater again, pulling it ever so carefully into position like a member of the bomb squad cutting the red wire. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. If I pulled it too far, it exposed that extra inch of skin on my ankle, but if I didn’t pull it far enough it didn’t provide enough coverage on my butt cheeks. Tick. Tock. But having cold cheeks wasn’t my only problem. The problem was, the sweater was on my legs, a size too small, and I was in the trunk of a sedan. It was my first extended road trip and I didn’t own a sleeping bag. KA-BOOM!
