Friday Fictioneers: Concentration

by Eena

I stared. The Tupperware stared right back. Vaguely I felt cold beads of sweat trickle down my neck, sticking my damp shirt into place. A dull rhythmic throbbing began at the back of my head.

The body is only a vessel, I repeat to myself.

Still the Tupperware wouldn’t budge. The subject was too heavy for today.

I shifted my gaze to the yellowing ticket beside it. Vision narrowing, all else became a blur: it was me and the paper, the paper and me.

Ever so subtly, its letters started to shift.

*****

The photo above is owned by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

Read more 100-word stories she hosts at Friday Fictioneers!

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