Blinding Light

2018.12.03

It was all going well, a bright sunlit morning. I’d slept in, I was excited — both about what I would be working on today, and whatever would come afterward. I had a bit of wistfulness — as when you find yourself missing a place and a person, so that you can remember how lights reflects off wet payment and floorboards like mirrors.

Remembering the sometimes blinding light of the anxiety within.

And then I sneezed.

And my back when out.

 

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