Ugly Baby

Trigger Warning: A Woman on the Verge of a Public Meltdown

The Grove Mall, Los Angeles

I might throw up.

It’s Saturday. The sun warms my scalp and a gentle breeze carries the scent of Orange Blossom and Jasmine coming into spring’s first bloom. I’m at the Grove, in search of a few items for my new apartment. I love the Grove. It’s bright and clean and feels as if nothing bad could happen here.

In my mind a war rages. Me vs. Me. I’m wrestling and squirming to get away from this feeling, observing impulses that roil up from the black hole within, like smoke signals to my brain where they form thought bubbles:

I wish a stranger would walk up to me and hug me.

I make eye contact with a woman. Her breasts are two, perfect, birthday party balloons under a crisp, white T-shirt and I imagine the feeling of them pressed against my rib cage. Then she wraps her talon like fingers around my throat, claw nails digging into my flesh as she squeezes with all her might.

I want her to choke me to death.

Holly! Go back to the hug. You don’t actually want that, I admo…