When I Must Interact

People are gathering in the hall. Books surround them. I sit at my table, anxiously awaiting someone to approach me, someone to show even a moniker of interest in what I’ve wrote, the covers I designed, or even me. Do I look like an interesting enough person to talk to? Or am I just another … Continue reading When I Must Interact

Small Things

Where does anxiety come from? Does it come from a big event? Does it come from some great existential crisis? Or does it come from an accumulation of little things? Something occurred to me yesterday. I was looking at my car and noticed the damaged decal that had been on my car since the last … Continue reading Small Things