Flash Fiction Friday Number One

what-to-do-for-a-hangnail-that-hurts

Pledge to my Patreon and read my new weekly Flash Fiction Friday pieces! I’m trying to write more fiction (and also chip away at this stupid novel) and patrons get to experience my raw and uncut creative mind and general imposter syndrome.

This Friday’s story is called Peel.

“It started with a hangnail on my right thumb.

I noticed it one day as I walked back to my dorm room from the library; a little tab of skin that was stiff and spiky. I pulled it off and it bled a little. The skin was raw and pink.

The next time I noticed it I was in a sociology lecture. I had been told to stop tapping my pencil by a girl in neon green sweatpants and the guy sitting to my right had begun to spit chewing tobacco into his Gatorade bottle. There were no windows, just seven hundred other barely awake bodies and a History adjunct with his khakis tucked into his loafers.

The hangnail was still there.

It had formed a few more starter tabs. I began to bite at the little bits of dry skin and more red, angry skin showed. It was the color of the tights I used to wear as a little kid, the ones that always had runs in the knees from falling off my bike.  I chewed a crimson crescent moon from the base of my nail bed down to the first crease of my knuckle.”

Pledge today and read the rest!

 

 

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