People are starting to ask how I feel about the book coming out. How do I feel about the dead skin between my fourth toe and pinky toe. How do feel about the lint trap, the time it takes to pluck a hair from my chin, the satisfaction of pulling a weed from its roots. How do I feel seeing myself in a tartan robe with coffee in a red mug wavery in the window, 5 am, back to the book, for three years my imaginary friend, my legal pads quilted, the cork board a crossword of index cards, the piles of books and drafts a pyre I tended with love. How do I feel? Sad, relieved, anxious, done.
What does it all mean?
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