So, what’s this now? This anxiety about tasks not yet completed, about the day getting away from me. With all my talk of time seen now from an entirely new – and foreign – perspective, how is it that my heart is quickening when I consider what needs to be done, should be, ought to be done? Oceans of time, remember?

I tell myself it’s because I’m not feeling at the top of my game right now. My hands and wrists, sometimes even my feet, thrum with a constant, dull, relentless ache. Pain. And so little energy. I hope it’s nothing more than that. Just a spike in how my body behaves itself, treats itself, in spite of itself.

To cut off one’s nose to spite one’s face.

Sunshine, flowers, warm breezes. Curiosity and eagerness – anticipation! – returned. I have to believe it to be so. That it will be, again.

Daily Prompt: Spike