When the highly regarded speaker had finished his lecture I felt the urge to make a comment. What he had said made no sense — his presentation had been completely void of content. He had obviously lost touch with reality and was thoroughly locked up in his ivory tower.
I was about to raise my hand when I remembered that I had recently promised myself not to get involved in things that were none of my business. In this case it would be of little use to make a comment since it would most likely bounce off the arrogant speaker as water off a duck’s back.
I restrained myself. As we say in Iceland, I sat on my inner child. Sometimes that makes life simpler.
The flash fiction story To sit on one’s inner child is part of the flash fiction collection Flash 52.