You get a triple word score and my mind is stuck – a coffee ring on the paper, a black sphere mirroring the sun – and I mistake a bag of letters for a bag of chips. You cross out the score to rework the numbers, while crumbs of muffins spread into a breakfast paste on fingers. The pen smudges paper like my eyeliner when I sleep over. I forget to take it off, a cave painting on the mirror. I forget to take it away.
HELP SUPPORT THE RAVENSPERCH
SUBMIT YOUR WORK
Need Editing Help Before Submitting?
Personal editing services available upon request.