Here it is. There. Sitting in front of me on that black chair. It. That famous imposter syndrome. Looking straight at me. It has my eyes, darkened with shadows. It has my mouth, minus the smile. It has my height. And I can leave it like that, staring at me, eying me, kind of saying “really, you think you can…” with that mocking voice… Or? I can turn it into an elephant. Like a big fatty elephant, way too big for the black chair, struggling to fit in my clothes, the mocking voice like a high pitch trumpet. So fun then to say “Hi” to the elephant in the room.
A Fish on a Hill 