Vices

Already I’ve closed one draft and started this one. Closed it when I realized that the nails on most of my fingers are already gone and there is little left.

I better get writing something else before I whittle them down to the quick.

Because the one I was writing was making it worse. For the worry and the wonder, the way the words wandered.

So I reach for the glass that sits half-empty beside me. Ice clinks and floats just an inch away from the bottom now. I lick my lips. That’s when I feel the rough spot on the bottom edge. I work to smooth it, using just my teeth, but it evades me. So even as I revise this post, I reach up to hold it into place so that I can pick and peel and smooth the worry away.

Then I pull away and realize I didn’t yet get the picky end of my finger, so I am after it again.

My mind is racing in so many directions. And this is how I show it.

“Quit chewing your fingers,” his voice echoes in my mind.

“Quit chewing,” I say.

Yes, please. Just quit. Be done.

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I am participating in the 11th annual Slice of Life Story Challenge (#SOLSC18) hosted by Two Writing Teachers. We write each day (except–for me–for yesterday) in March as part of an international writing community. I appreciate any comments, especially those that

• reinforce writing decisions that work and
• coach into those that don’t.

Think of each comment you leave as a little writing conference we are having together. Come on, make me a better writer today! Thank you!