Monday Editorial – The Wildcard

I’ve decided I am just going to start saying Good Monday to everyone I encounter at this cruel time we call the ‘beginning of the week’ because really isn’t the day hard enough without a little extra positivity and encouragement?

So Good Monday to you all!

This week I am running a sample ‘post-a-day’ schedule of what my publication blog will be expected to look like weekly. Hopefully, in about a month you can expect regular posts from my site with specific themes/purposes each day, with a few guest publishers and shared pieces every now and then.

Mondays are editorial days.

What does that mean? It means basically I will be posting whatever the hell I want to, because, as mentioned before, Mondays are hard.

You never know if your Monday will go according to plan, so it’s best to just be positive and roll with the punches. Maybe we had a great weekend, and I’m going to share my travel experiences or photography. Maybe we had a shitty weekend and I’m going to rant about life in general or tell you all about my plans to be a better person.

I’m a wildcard, and now so are Mondays with this blog!

So what do I have today?

Today I have intrusively negative thoughts that I am trying to bury with flash fiction. Do you ever wake up with that seemingly endless, hopeless, lump in your throat feeling before you even get your day started? I don’t know if I’ve ever felt lower than I did waking up this morning, and I’m not quite sure why. Well, anyway, I hope you enjoy the story!


The Wildcard.

Before Lorna met James she was fine, most days.

Lorna was always a 50/50 kind of personality type: either she was good, really good, or she was bad, really bad. That was just life, though, she had always thought.

She had grown to accept the flaw in herself, the only thing she didn’t accept was how petty her mood switches were at the most inopportune times in her life. One day she is so low, so mad, so sad, there is no hope in anything. The next she’s upbeat, unstoppable and on her way to greatness.

With James, however, her brain was pleasantly sitting in the middle most of the time. James grounded her. If she was stupendously high he would bring her back down to earth, gently, and if she was incomprehensively low he’d pick her up, and quite frankly he’d do it quicker than any drug she’d ever tried before.

That’s exactly why she knew the box, in theory, was a good idea.

If she happened to be frantic one day, think she wants to leave James and pack her stuff up, she would be saved, because she would be in the box.

Then again, if she happened to be absolutely positive she really did want to leave James, that she deserved better, she was sort of stuck, because, well, she would be in the box.

She went back and forth on the whole thing often, especially since they started spending their evenings together building it.

It was fun, at first.

Then it all got to be too heavy.

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