Normally I'm an excellent speller. So it's sort of strange what happened. At the side hustle a few days ago I had to fill out a damage slip for a shoe. It was quick and painless. I've done it a dozen times before without thinking. It's quite simple, really. Date. Brand Name. Reason. I got the first two right. It wasn't until I looked down at what I'd scrawled for the reason, that I saw my mistake. There, on that two inch line were the words that gave me pause. I know what I'd meant; what I was supposed to write. But somewhere between the correct spelling in my mind, my subconscious and the pen in my hand- there was a disconnect. The meaning changed. Or maybe it was a non-verbal Freudian slip. Plus, for the shoes to be so new it made no sense for the sole to be damaged that way- but it was obviously defective. Made by miscalculation. Not unlike most of us, I suppose. Perhaps my hand wrote the word incorrectly just so I could look down and process something deeper. Something I've been feeling for quite some time. And I stood there a moment; unable to move. Staring at the words in my hurried penmanship: Detached Soul
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