My Imaginary Anxiety
The doctor said my anxiety was imaginary, which helped briefly, but imaginary things still chase you, still scream, still leave messes. Mine follows me home, eats my leftovers, and reminds me I am pretending to function. We coexist politely. It pays no rent and judges everything while smiling like tomorrow.
***Faster than a speeding gummy, able to leap small buildings at a single bound Flash Fiction is a guaranteed page turner.
â ïž Satire rules here. If you are looking for facts, bring your own. If you are looking for spiritual, economic, or moral counseling, try prayer. Just do not bring any lawyers around this entertainment-only venue.