Outdrawn

by Deanna Grey

My patience thinned by the day. I’d gone to yoga classes, started new workout routines, and spoken with therapists, but nothing helped with my short fuse and shitty temper. Nothing except being alone. So, I made it my mission, and soon enough, it became my talent. I was so good at being alone, it almost scared me some days.

“I am,” I agreed. “But not all those lines I draw are the right ones.” “How can you tell the right ones from the wrong ones?” “When you put them down and don’t feel anything,” I said without hesitation.