Fluffy

Fluffy

"My brain is fluffy," I gasped through my uncontrollable giggles.

It felt good to laugh-to let out the tiredness of the past four days of the Balboa festival as well as pure merriment.

My brain was pretty sloshy. Its insides jiggled from the right hemisphere to the left and back again so it was hard to get hold of any thought. Have you ever felt like that? So many happy hormones were floating around my head from dancing and the excitement of talking to new people. I knew I would miss them, although I had this feeling I would see some again. The sudden break would be weird after sharing such an intense experience with the same people for days. I had gotten used to their faces, their movements, their unique expressions...

I tried to explain my sensations to the Frenchman who had said "not to keep my arms fluffy" as we were dancing. "Fluffy arms" stuck me as so funny that it was a catalyst to my irruptive laughter. He started chuckling, too, and agreed that it would be a pity not to see each other again.

"So, we will see each other tomorrow," he said as if it were a fact.

Well, we would "see" each other in photos and our memories, so he wasn't wrong. (He was also right about my arms being "fluffy"–not in the sense of flab but lack of readiness to be turned.)

 "My arms and my brain feel fluffy," was all I could respond. 

 My feet somehow still kept the time, but my whole body was giggling by now. And the Frenchman's feet and laughter followed me.

Photo: <a href="https://pixabay.com/users/leloops-14891393/?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=4760604">leloops</a> from <a href="https://pixabay.com//?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=4760604">Pixabay</a>

Text: Kristen Mastromarchi