by Grace Black
The moon has returned, and I can hear its whispers. It’s a grey mockery of my past mistakes. A single file line of every wrong decision awaiting their turn at the podium.
Short hair in fourth grade.
Neon and spandex in sixth.
The prom date from hell.
Art history in college.
Hunter green in the 90’s.
Every. Diet. Fad. Ever.
Sushi for dinner because now I’m hungry again.
Did I lock the doors?
Take my meds?
A striptease of self-doubt, night after night I lie in bed with a string of unwanted dialogue and hope for sleep that never comes.
Author bio: Grace Black is just another writer wearing down lead and running out of ink, one line at a time. Coffee refuels her when sleep has not been kind.
Insomnia is part of 101 Fiction issue 7.