Surgery Grade

Alone past midnight was a daring way to be. My essay loomed over me like a giant ticking clock I could hear in my head. My fingers faltered at the keyboard. Tick-tock, tick-tock.

Focus patiently waited for me in my backpack.

I exhaled anticipation as I drew the surgery grade bottle out of the side pocket, slipping painkillers in my mouth like a secret. Swallow and exhale tension, wait for the focus. Hammer out the last of the essay in record time, and exhale relief.