Cleaving in two
Julie placed two mugs of tea on the table.
‘You don’t seem yourself these days, Liam. What’s wrong?’
‘I don’t know. I just feel like I’m cleaving in two.’
‘Cleaving? Cleaving how?’
Liam shrugged. ‘Like I’m observing my own life from outside myself. That I’m talking with another being.’
‘We all have an inner voice, Liam.’
‘But mine’s swapped to the second person. ‘Jesus, Liam, you need to get a grip,’ instead of ‘I need to get a grip’.’
‘We all talk to ourselves like that sometimes.’
‘But this isn’t sometimes; it’s always. It’s like I’m living with a stranger.’
A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.
‘You don’t seem yourself these days, Liam. What’s wrong?’
‘I don’t know. I just feel like I’m cleaving in two.’
‘Cleaving? Cleaving how?’
Liam shrugged. ‘Like I’m observing my own life from outside myself. That I’m talking with another being.’
‘We all have an inner voice, Liam.’
‘But mine’s swapped to the second person. ‘Jesus, Liam, you need to get a grip,’ instead of ‘I need to get a grip’.’
‘We all talk to ourselves like that sometimes.’
‘But this isn’t sometimes; it’s always. It’s like I’m living with a stranger.’
A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.
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