Sneak Peak - Spoilers Edited out.

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   It takes exactly nine seconds to walk into my shrink’s waiting room and find a seat. I know it’s nine seconds because I hold my breath and count. I hold my breath and count because I’m anxious. Quietly, internally. Genetically. Agitation crawls under my skin. Ever since the bad day happened, the world looks different. Draped by a soggy blanket that won't dry no matter how much sun shines on it.

   I am working on accepting the changes. I’m even embracing moments of optimism. And things are getting better. They’re not  perfect, like ice cream with chocolate-covered almonds or ribbons of fudge. But adequate. An Oreo without milk. At least until the fight with my mom. A knockdown, way down, with tears, and screaming, and pent-up rage, promptly followed by the crowning touch. A monster panic attack in my uncle’s apartment in Paris, where first I hyperventilated, and then passed out on the gently mopped walnut Versailles parquet floor. 

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Stay tuned for more sneak peaks as the publication

date gets closer.

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