|Found on Google Images|
FLASH FICTION PROMPT
I was always surprised by gifts. I still am.
My therapist would give you a long, complicated explanation of how a loss of self-esteem and a less-than-stellar childhood might have contributed to long-term behavior patterns. I would tell you that such nonsense fits the bill for psychobabble.
That same therapist would tell you that I am deserving of the gestures that people have thought to extend.
I still remain flat out thrilled and floored every single time someone chooses to show their appreciation for my quiet existence. From a toothbrush to new pack of highlighters or Christmas pajamas and spiced red Tea.
I am thankful. Bewildered, puzzled and probably over-thinking it all.
It is always beyond me how anyone could think that I am worth the trouble of a gift. From my own twisted point of view, I find it easy to give gifts to those around me. So easy to give.
So hard to accept.
How strange to know that people truly care.
(c) Sara Harricharan