Obsessive Compulsive Disorder

I don’t need to travel far to bear witness to human suffering. Out on the porch, I went down to the sidewalk to pick up a fallen tree branch. A young woman walking by asked to use my cigarette lighter. I gave it to her. She pulled out a fresh cigarette and tore off a small piece at the tip (the good end not the filter end) and threw it away. Before she lit up she mumbled something and gesticulated with a pointed finger as if she were counting something invisible, took two steps forward and two steps back. She mumbled again and spit, gestured as if counting again and finally lit the cigarette. She mumbled an apology and thanked me and gave me back my lighter. I recognized her actions as an OCD ritual.

About The Twentieth Man

Age 67
This entry was posted in Going Bananas, Observations, Short Stories, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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