Category: Writing prompts

The yellow highlighter I was using before. Its diameter, the thickness of my thumb. Smooth and slick. I turn it around in my hand, putting it between my fingers as one would a cigarette. My fingers travel up the round thick barrel to the cover. The cover feels smaller and grooved like a small version of a churro. It sits atop the round barrel. I tug at it. It comes off easily and falls to the ground rolling away towards a cushion. It stops at the edge of the red silk cushion lying next to the pen. The red silk cushion beckons to me. I reach for the cushion, accidentally jabbing it with the highlighter forgetting it was uncapped. I suck air through my teeth for the second time as I drop the highlighter and reach for the stained red silk cushion. It slips out of my reach.