Scars in small silver lines ran across Jack’s hairless chest. Jack wondered how long it would take before his secret was as open as his shirt.
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I am a traveler on the journey between lives. Please
hold my hand. I’m scared. Please carry me.
Five good things. Go.
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Gracefully winding her way among her guests, Laura dished out hugs and kisses-on-the-cheek to diplomats and rebels, aid workers and opposition leaders, macho journalists and the young women of the moment some had brought along.
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The last time I did, my reflection twitched, glitched, distorted.
A bug? A body? A burden?
It’s dark when I unlock the door, flip switches, get the coffee
brewing.
“I’ve lost my way. It was so clear back then, I knew what I wanted, but I was unsure of myself…”
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The dream was a warning to me. With so many talents I could easily become a dilettante, spreading myself thin.
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