My day today is cursed with things taking blood from me that I cannot see. I woke up to the feeling of something fragile and winged latched onto my naked shoulder blade. Sleepy and drenched in California sun and my own sweat, I smacked it away to only feel it for a millisecond and it disappeared. I don’t know if it was real or a dream.
I’m sitting in a café on Sunset and Hyperion and the café has blue walls and rusted steel stools once coated in marigold paint and every few minutes I feel a momentary prick on my calf, my cheek, my knee and I startle. I move my hand away from the keyboard or my cardboard coffee cup to brush it away and whatever was once there is gone before I could prove its existence.
kamelya omayma 