Not far from where I spend time staring at my keyboard are three recently refinished stairs from the kitchen into this room. The handrails that would generally ensure a proper entrance haven't yet been put back.
The stairs are angled and like someone who's forgotten to take their medication, a few nights ago I approached them at a reckless speed with a glass in my hand.
From the middle step, I slipped and hit the floor sliding into the room protecting the glass but wrenching my neck, back and assorted other body parts.
I'm pretty sure I lost the baby but for a guy my age, that may have been for the best.
Reader's Diary #1985- Luke W. Molver: Shaka Rising
14 hours ago