I almost didn’t make it through
this book, nearly stopped writing.
The hand that held the pen was
tired. I had to unroll every skein and
sort it out. I had to unfold
every thought and smooth them.
I had to figure out what the
numbers were and put them in
order. I did this mindlessly, like
a robot, because it was the only
way to get it done.
by Cher Bibler
