On the surface, that appears to be the weakest lede of any story I’ve ever written. But before you scroll on by, understand that the breaking of that fingernail, on my pinky finger of my right hand, was a major event. It was the first time in my life that I’ve ever broken one.
That finger, along with the nine other digits that accompany it, had never grown nails. Well, to be accurate, they’ve grown, but I used to tear or bite the nails off before they ever got close to extending past my fingertips or run the risk of breaking.
In fact, I used to bite my fingernails almost down to the cuticle, ’til those aforementioned fingertips bled. That’s what anxiety can do to a kid. And my nail-biting habit persisted well into adulthood.
Photo Courtesy Coleman Communications
Michael P Coleman is a Sacramento based freelance writer who has his eye on the Pulitzer Prize. Connect with him at michaelpcoleman.com or follow his blog, his IG and his Twitter.