My elders warned me but I scoffed. It will never happen to me! “Words,” they cautioned, “will become like socks in the dryer. Two sock-words will go into the spinning barrel of your mind. Only one will come out.”
What happens to the other sock? Where is that perfect word match? I open the drawer of my brain only to find half the word-socks have gone missing. Poof.
I should never have scoffed. I wander through my days trying to mask the fact that I’m only wearing a single word-sock.
I imagine the satisfied smiles of all the ancestors getting the last laugh. “Told you so,” they smirk, frown, and ask, suddenly snapping their fingers to stimulate their synapses, “And, what’s your name, again?”
I’d tell them (in my imagination) but think it’s good practice to exercise their brains so I smile and quip, “Who’s asking?”
read Kerri’s blogpost about WORD LOSS
smack-dab. © 2022 kerrianddavid.com
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The Direction of Intention 
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