Life in an Instant

I set my pencil down. Looking around for my notebook, my homework assignment shoved inside, piles of papers, clods of clothes, and bundles of boxes are strewn about, tripping me and obstructing my search. Not on my bedstand, where my bamboo plant casually tilts its head up at me. Not underneath my bed, where a tool bag, photo album, change jar, and box of nail polish great me. Nor underneath the clothes or papers. Not in my backpack, which holds my greasy work uniform from yesterday night.

My eyes gaze high, low, under, and behind, but cannot seem to find it. I am about to turn around when I catch sight of a worn gray corner poking out of the pile of papers on my desk. My eager hands dart forward, and I trip over a box full of Salvation Army donations. Yes, my Creative Nonfiction binder.


I return to my bed. My hand reaches into the folds to grab my pencil, but stops short. Shock freezes my eyes, melts into disappointment, and boils up with aggravation. Now I couldn't find my pencil.