What has he said? I could ask. Have I said? Said how difficult it is to say what another is thinking when this other says nothing, remains mute–what do we know about another? Each of us does have to look inside–this state of anotherness makes other like me. How difficult it is to know what we think, what do I think? I have said that I do not know until I write. I know it is difficult to imagine we have ways to think we see, to think we can imagine we understand. Do we think that what we have in the matter and the manner of what we call thinking qualifies for thinking? Less than enough has been masquerading as good enough for how long now?
Another Thinking [Flash Fiction]
The Falling Leaf Review 