I turn my back from the sun, and slap the snooze…again. Thoughts form, “just get up and move.” Limbs proceed to upright position; feet dangle a few inches from the floor. “So close, but yet…forget it.” My head drops back against the pillow, down feathers envelope and cradle me. I am incapable to motivate myself for another day. Instead my blanket of dull and dreary, I find safe and most content.
When Wounds Run Deep!Standard
DAY 19 (Read Day 1 “OK, Honey. Challenge Accepted!” Post)
“He is definitely sucking his finger,” the dermatologist demanded as he rolled his eyes and wrote something in the chart.
“I am fully aware that you are the professional,” I begin. Jaw tightened and eyes narrowed I continued, “however, for the 1000th time, I am telling you, my son has never…sucked…his fingers.” A slammed door behind me, determination erupted to prove this quack wrong.