Suddenly,
the middle finger on my right hand felt
bare.
Something wasn't there.
Something I never usually ceased to wear
and now it wasn't there.
Something small but also precious,
something delicate and rare,
beloved beyond compare,
and now it wasn't there.
It slipped off without my notice
and vanished into thin air.
I am going to write a story of some variety, long or short, fictitious or factual, every single day for a year. Wish me luck.
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