I felt like I was floating. Without the weight of the sling, without the collar of every shirt bunching up under the annoying, scratchy strap. Without a crayon blue cotton accessory, I felt cultured, regal even.
I also felt sick.
Not crazy I-have-the-shakes-about-to-vomit sick, not fever sick, not even I have a sniffle or a scratch in my throat.
No, my body was fine. Healthier than it had been in weeks. It was my soul and my mind now that had some recovering to do.
I had meant what I said to Delilah. It was all true, included everything I wanted to say. I only wished I had said it more eloquently, in a kinder conversational tone with less swearing. Though, in the end, my point was made and we were better for it or at least one day we would be. So, why did I still feel so rotten?
Proba
