The Mind Needs a Mission

Daily Writing Provides One

On a cold and dark morning, hours before the rest of my world would wake up, I sat in a local Starbucks, the hum of the espresso machine mixing with the storm in my chest. An envelope from the day before sat in front of me like a threat. Its edges were too sharp, its weight too heavy for paper. My fingers hovered over it, trembling, then pulled back. Th…