Argilla HandsIt’s not too late, she thought.  Do it.  I have to do it.

“I need to show you something,” Serena told the nurse behind the desk.  She set down the e-pad containing the scans, the medical history file, all of the information that no longer mattered now.  She slipped out a package from the pocket of her lab coat.  It was a sterile scalpel.  She kept it low, behind the desk, out of the nurse’s sight.  She opened the package and snapped the protective plastic off the blade.  She let the packaging fall to the ground.

Serena raised her left hand.  Then she raised the scalpel and the nurse gasped and held up her own hands.  Serena dragged the scalpel from the base of her left thumb across the bottom of her palm, slicing open her hand, not too shallow, not too deep. Continue reading



What do I even do for a living? Gary thought, as he glanced at the stack of business cards on his desk that announced him as Senior Acquisitions Manager.  Through the glass doors and partitions, he could see the next meeting going in the room where he had just failed to win over enough review board members to approve his latest proposal.

If only things had gone as he had envisioned in his visualization exercise.  He sighed.  Not an exercise, his visualization had gone out of hand and become a full-blow daydream.  He had marched into that room, the meeting room, no, the throne room.  He had marched into the throne room an embattled king, weary but tested and confident, followed by a dozen loyal knights, courteous in his challenge to his nobles to support his latest royal endeavor.  At the end of that speech, all had acquiesced and bowed to him.  And he had inclined his head to them. Continue reading