My Danny


A pale bottom lip darkened in colour as she grinded her teeth along it. She was nervous. I knew she was. It would be her fingers next. She'd start picking the nail polish off them, leaving her hands looking distressed. Then she'd pick at the skin on her fingers, finally biting at the skins corner, leaving her fingertips red and raw. She was never too good at hiding her nerves, my Annie, never too good at all.