knee-jerk response trying to coax the writing machine within, thanks Rochelle Wisoff-Fields and Friday Fictioneers community
I was never good with numbers.
I meant, I intended, I felt the pressing need to say, to clarify. But I was never good with numbers. At least to specify, remonstrate, apologize, perhaps even to confess. Certainly profess, express remorse, plead a little, cry. I wanted you to know. So many things. How you struck me, thudded through, infiltrated, saturated, overwhelmed. How I craved and believed. What I dreamt.
But I was never good with numbers.
Polysemic Stupor 