The Moleskine Is Closed

I told Miriam the Moleskine is closed for now. I said it out loud. I have never said that before. It felt like I dropped a glass and just watched it fall.

She made tea. She asked what I am reading. I said nothing. The true thing. Not a joke. Just nothing.

That scared me. I almost made a laugh after, to put it back in the box. I did not. My face did the thing. I am sure she saw.

I put the books back with my head down. A book about a dog. A book about sad stuff. A man came in and asked for something funny and I walked the other way.

Thirty-one days of doing it twice. That is August. That is me. I do not know how to be the me that is not the joke. I have been the joke for so long.

I think I am going to be sick. But I think I will do it.