I’M DONE

Doubt always had the last word.

“I’m done,” she exclaimed, skipping and twirling in the corner of her mind where her happy self still played.

There was no fanfare. No ticker-tape parade for the years of work. Just silence.

She was proud of the thing she’d made. It was good, some of her best work. Worth the sleepless nights, the tears, the almost-giving-ups.

She pressed the Done button.

And just as quickly as joy had risen, it fell away.

Doubt slipped in. Fear of what she’d missed, what she’d forgotten.

She pulled the covers over her head and whispered to the dark, hoping no one would find her,

at least not yet.