SAMANTHA

where proper metaphors fear to tread

“You look like you’re not twenty-six anymore. I bet you exchanged 47% of your skin’s structural integrity for something really good! Don’t hold out on me. What, in your almost forty-two years, do you know to be true?” says a middling-sized carbuncle of my mind.

This one isn’t as mean as the others, has maybe some piece of a genuine interest behind its wet little eyes, so I try to answer.