I’m at a house, it might be mine, it might not. We have a visitor a woman. My mum and her are talking, I’m playing with my toys while they talk. I go near the woman’s feet, they bare, naked. This is my first memory of bare skin. I’m nervous, apprehensive about approaching her feet, touching her bare skin. Something inside me tells me to stop, to not touch, to not stare, to go back to playing with my toys. Bare skin is bad and should not be touched.
The Autistic FellRunner
I am a 52 year old male with a late diagnosis of Asperger's Syndrome. I enjoy writing in all forms about people and life. I enjoy running over the moors where my mind can be free from the stresses of everyday life. I am currently studying for a PhD in autism and aging. I hope you enjoy my writing and please feel free to leave a comment. Thank you for taking the time to visit my site. View all posts by The Autistic FellRunner