Writer on the Run XXIX

Three days later and I still winced every time I had to walk up or down stairs. I had my class tonight and would be leaving bright and early to catch my flight home...I feel like I have been gone for weeks. I'm nowhere near the NY speed for walking and in the Village it seems to be okay. My son made it home safely and was back in his dorm and on the field...I still miss him. I turned down second avenue to walk the last three blocks to my class...then four long flights of stairs up. It was worth it, this time next year and I should be close if not done my book. With every door I remove from my life I feel freer and less afraid...I have no secrets and I don't want any.

She buzzed me in and I stood at the base of the first step for a long pause...it's my turn to read. Not one of my peers knows my story but I'm no longer ashamed to tell it...I am a survivor of sexual abuse, I am not societies definition of a traditional wife and/or mother and I suffer from an anxiety disorder...my darkness no longer exists, it can't...