Walking, Walking - Starkey Flythe




Starkey Flythe - February 15, 1935

Nice meaty story – add a touch of psychiatric illness, and you have just the type of short I really like.

I’m not sure why the thoughts come to me when I’m in the shower. I’m sure someone out there has written why our minds are more at ease or creative in that particular space.

The thoughts come, and at times, especially in the mornings I have to choke back emotions…M is usually on the other side of the shower curtain, and she can tell by my face if there is something heavy going on in my mind.

The thoughts concern the death of a loved one, and how I would react. The minutes, hours, days, weeks, months and years after their death.

Would I ever truly get over it?

What sort of effect would it have on my mental state?

What would my life become without that person?

It’s impossible to predict how we might react. All we can do is look at previous behaviors and attempt to derive some sort of knowledge as to what could happen.

I have been fortunate. The deaths in my family have all taken place far away from me.

Their impact was slight.

I’m afraid of the future…and what will not be slight.

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