Nagisa K.

Contract of Unspeaking

There’s a high school photo of me floating on Facebook. A friend took it before band class as I hunched over a thick 5-subject notebook balanced on a tilted music stand. I never even noticed her taking the photo until I saw it posted online. In the comments, I played my concentration as a joke, adding a contrived philosophical statement about being a deep, dark, emotional writer. I linked to the blatantly “emo” piece, said I was having a bad week, and we moved on.