8/22/17
Needs
“I didn’t mean to frighten you. Will you please put down the salt?”
“No. I can’t give you my energy. I need it.”
“I won’t take it if you don’t wish it.”
“Since when do you listen to my wishes?” I was in my office, a line of salt around the perimeter kept him from entering.
“Writer,” he stopped, his shoulders sagged and his seaweed green hair fell forward into his face. He looked up at me, brown eyes always searching for something. “Just tell me what my card is.” I held it up, The Hierophant reversed.
“Doesn’t that mean you don’t believe me but you should?”
“August…” I faltered, he heard it and straightened.
“Please.”
“I’ll clean up the salt, but I want more time to think about you feeding off my energy.”
“Take all the time you need,” he said, the old familiar smirk creeping onto his face. He vanished. My head sank to my desk.
Sometimes I wonder what exactly I’m still clinging to.
In a way it's a perfectly normal thing, people feed off each other's life energy all the time