First, I wrote a story.
But then I was in the bathroom, on the short break from my all day training, and thought- no. No, its too long, and its too personal (even though it was just an old fairy tale i remembered about a goatherder and cheese). But still, too much of me in it somehow. Or too open to criticism.
So now I will just speak to the man in the blue shirt who felt like touching my ass on the bus this morning. Nasty naughty little boys who can't keep their hands to themselves get to go to a special hell filled with wet fingers which poke annoyingly into your ears and up your noses and jab at your eyeballs for eternity.