Sometimes you don't know why you feel this way. Heavy and tight and tired. It's like the incomplete version of yourself is in dialogue with the more complete parts.
“Where is he?”
Leo’s expression falls. “Library, I guess.”
“You guess?”
“Yeah, he, uh...” Leo laces his hands together on top of his head. “He’s pissed off at the world, touchy... twitchy. It’s been pretty unbearable.”
I sigh.
I wish I could say I was surprised.