welp, I reckon this effect is gettin dang near done [1].
[1] a scruffy bearded man, leaning against the side of a building with a low roofline, hat tipped down, eyes toward the ground, reaches up to take a toothpick from his mouth. without looking up, he flicks it like a nearly spent cigarette off into the unseen distance. you keep looking for his eye contact to meet yours. you never find it. autism isn’t talked about because you’re in the 1800s, but is that the reason he won’t make eye contact with you?
you smell the strong odor of horse shit, but as you look around, you’re nowhere near a stable. as the smell lingers in your nose you notice its sweet bloom. the horses here are well fed, or is it the absense of pollutants because the technology needed for industrialized farming hasn’t been invented yet? why are you thinking in terms that don’t seem to exist anywhere around you?
the man clears his throat. you look back in his direction, unsure how long you were standing there staring off into the distance. you want to ask him, but the anxiety is swirling around your mind like a clogged drain. you can’t see through the water. did you brush your teeth?
you blink and find yourself looking at someone you remember. the man in the hat is gone. you feel the weight of familiarity start to ground your swirling mind. the sink is still clogged. you still smell shit but it’s no longer sweet.
three light taps ring from your left. “babe, are you okay in there?”
“yeah. [four second pause] yeah.” you look back up into the mirror to see yourself. you look tired. you’ve been pushing too hard. “[clears throat] yeah. be right out.”