He said he likes my work; but what if he doesn’t like THIS? What if I really actually suck at writing? What if he tells me I’m no good? What if he doesn’t want me to enter it?
The warm stream of self-doubt was jarred loose by a knock at her door. She hadn’t yet made it out of bed or changed out of her wet sleep-shorts or shirt and this morning the pee had made it all the way into her long hair! Looking up from her wet crinkly plastic lined pillow, she realized it wasn’t Mom at the door but Dad!
Reacting in embarrassment and fear rather than excitement, she (somewhat reluctantly) pulled her wet blankets up higher to try to cover her shameful state.
“Good morning honey,” he said poking his head in the door.
“Morning…Daddy…” she mumbled.
