Three Scenes from Kendal's Life

Foot on the brake, hand on the key, with a twist of my wrist, I was on my way. With one hand on the wheel turning it left, I saw the shadow of an unknown creature with eight legs on my windshield. His presence was as calm as mine before he knew I was his last and final predator. Pulling to the side of the street, I prepared myself for his execution.

I am a writer who’s clenched, but soft hands were ripped and cut by paper from an unknown fraudster. Still terrified by traumatic events, suffers their effects. A morning, brisk by the air of fall, sent the flitting legs of a runner up a mountain.The raw air touched her bare skin well.

Dark dirt and trees encompassed her on her way. Seeing the sun up ahead, she had no fear of freezing.

I needed so much time to heal and I didn’t give myself that time. Instead, I beat myself up even more and the healing didn’t happen for a long, long time because I didn’t allow myself to be imperfect and shattered. It didn’t help that I felt misunderstood by her because she just assumed that I was prideful and selfish and she would tell me. That was the easy assumption. But it went far deeper than just a pride thing. My heart was destroyed.