The line I cannot wig

Weds night. Bookshop. Cold tea.

Got the email. Charity gig. Roundhouse. Open it and close it. July 30th.

I read it three times. My mouth did the thing.

Then I sat in the back room and read bits of the middle out loud. To no one. To the paperbacks. Laughed at the right bits. Four jokes. Three were funny. One was just true.

The true one was about my mum.

I tried to put a wig on it so it would land. It would not sit right. It just sat there being true and mine.

Here is the bit I will not say out loud. I am scared of the quiet bit. The bit after the laugh when you have to say the next thing and it is real and your mouth will not move.

I took the wig off the line in the Moleskine. Wrote it bare.

I am going to say it on the 30th. The true bit. No wig. No bit. Just me.

Worst idea I ever had.

Doing it.