Why do you think so?
Because everyone is slow, stupid, crass, just like you made them.
Either that, she said, or they are on their way to attaining all that.
And what will you do?
Tell it to stop. I will tell it to stop, she said.
What? Tell what, asked the glowing thing.
I will, she said, tell it to give it a rest, to not bother.
Why? You keep running, said the glowing thing.
I feel, she said, that it has it’s own problems, some trauma, she said.
Through it’s lenses, it views me, she sighed.
You don’t want that to happen? The glowing thing asked.
No. I try to avoid it. It doesn’t understand. They never do.
They want, demand, and paint me with black.
Like a well, they sink deeper in the mud.
Their ankles, she smiled, are always bruised.
So, you will avoid? Asked the glowing thing.
Yes. I will avoid it.
I will tell it, it’s either this way or nothing at all.
Its hard for you, the glowing thing murmured in sympathy.
She shrugged. It’s hard to be excited for it, to be who it wants.
But, you will just be you, said the glowing thing.
Yes, I’ve got my back. As always.
Be there. For you.
For me. She left.