The Pitch

"You were 7 and I was 12.." I began my mock book pitch for my international publishing course. Class had technically ended 10 minutes ago, but my teacher asked us all to stay behind for one last pitch. Mine. In our last class on a Friday. I just wanted to get it over with. I'd…

The Butterflies

Butterflies. What a beautiful expression to describe the waves of nausea coursing through my stomach right now. The flicker of anxiety reaching up to my heart and causing this insomnia. My whole body is tingling with this nervous anticipation. How sweet it is to liken this horrible feeling to majestic butterflies. Of course, if tomorrow…

The Make Up Artist

"Are you on the prowl tonight?" Asked the beautiful, blond, mother of two boys assigned to do my makeup. She was rubbing cream on my face. "Yes," I began to reply automatically. It was a bad habit, my intensive need to always be agreeable often trumps my listening skills. I corrected myself immediately when I…