Talking to self.

Walk dog down what I think is a deserted street. Compose vulgar tweet aloud to myself. Realize as I’m speaking that I’m standing near two gardeners on their knees in a flower bed. Freeze. Make eye contact. Give my best I’m-not-a-crazy-person smile, like what I just said makes any kind of sense in the present situation. Continue walking, resolute in the hope that my ridiculousness may one day be considered a superpower.

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