“How are you doing today?” I asked a coworker like I always do.
“Can’t complain,” he said.
That phrase stuck with me.
Can’t complain.
Well. I can.
Give me a bad moment and I will turn complaining into an art form. My complaints are the canvas. My words are the paint. My mouth is the brush.
Before long, I have created something that is not even real. A distort…
Comments
Nothing yet. Say the first thing.
Sign in to join the conversation.