Gordon Wilson

How to Go Off the Wagon

. . . I thought of escape. I would get to my feet and say how wonderful it had been, but I must run, I had forgotten time, I was late for my evening appointment. Toby would cover for me. But I stayed on, my frozen smile hurting my face. I could see that it was no strain for Toby. Toby was enjoying it and he was oblivious to my discomfort.

Sometimes I have behaved badly when I have been trapped like this. I have failed to conceal my boredom and I have gone into a sulk that could not be overlooked by anyone. I told myself that this time I would at least fake things to the best of my ability. I massaged my face to limber up my smile. I murmured appreciations. I even compelled myself to make a little speech.

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