“Don’t even get me started on that tricky little bastard called anxiety,” was the joke Billie used to tell people to make her insecurities feel less serious. It was one of those things where her day was completely fine, hell, it was one of the best she’d had in a long time, and then for no apparent reason, her mind was sent into overdrive.
Always the type of person who would sit and think about how she could have handled a situation six years prior differently, Billie felt as though her heart was a black hole. Why could one completely normal interaction have her second-guessing her entire existence? How could it be, that logically, she knew that nothing happened and everything was fine, but she couldn’t shake that feeling of impending doom, of future ramifications that surely would never see the light of day? Continue reading “Short Story 29”