Chapin City Blues

Writing is writing whether done for duty, profit, or fun.

It’s the anticipation that gets me in the end. Anticipation’s the wrong word. Dread? Anxiousness? Staring at the clock. Checking my phone. The corner of my computer screen. Waiting. Ticking the minutes. Thoughts caught in my throat. Weighing my heart down. I end my thirtieth year with French toast and mini-sausages because it’s whatever. In …

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