Spotlight

The full moon startles me when I draw back the curtains on Tuesday morning. At first I wonder why someone is shining a spotlight at me.

I have an intuition about my dread of seeing people: it’s the result of an old wound. They will most likely not tear me to pieces, and even if they do I can probably cope these days. (And even if they do, says Frog, it’s their problem and f*** them.)

A vision arrives. I am mingling with rich and famous people and feeling confident because I have had a novel published. I am their equal. I have done something unique. I have proved that I am real.