The best punishment gets under your skin like termites. In the middle of conversation you lose the t

The best punishment gets under your skin like termites. In the middle of conversation you lose the threat because of the scratch scratch scratch of it, lingering in the back of your mind. You find yourself wandering aimlessly, and suddenly your back there, thinking about it. Your feet did the walking, and they walked you into the memory.

The best punishment lingers, it saturates, and permeates. It turns you into a sponge heavy with it, desperate to be squeezed clear, to have that liquid weight expunged from yourself. 

The best punishments are the simple ones. The ones that aren’t burdened by theatre, built up to and staged in such a way to have MAXIMUM IMPACT in MINIMUM TIME. The best punishments are the old favourites. 

The best punishments play on your brain, take it by the hand and lead it back to a familiar place that they’ve half forgotten. Send you to the corner. Put you over the knee. Bring you back to childhood, in that so very adult body of yours. The context is different, but the feelings come rushing back all the same. 

The best punishment stays with you. It works its way under your skin until you can’t get rid of it. Until it isn’t an it to get rid of. It’s just you. You and your skin.