Then it begins. Her phone drops to the couch, feet dash upstairs. The screen still on. “REMINDER SUSAN BIRTHDAY. 3488 Burgsway Crossing @ 2pm 12/15”.

Rushed hands yank the drawer open and grapple for the contents inside. In her hands lay a 9 mm, the metal cold to the touch. She briefly considers. A deep sigh escapes her lips. Which would be better for her friend? Would the 9 mm do?

She shakes her head. Perfectionism is something she can’t escape. With hesitation, the 9 mm is placed back inside the drawer. Closed, out of her sight now, she runs downstairs.

Coat swinging around her, hands hurriedly search for keys. She snatches her purse and exits the front door.

“Come on, come on…” she anxiously urges the car.

The fog takes it’s time to clear from the windshield, but finally she backs out the drive in haste and races down the street.

On the commute, she makes her plan. She’s considered her friend, she’s considered the time. A conclusion is finalized. 10 mm it will be. She already had the instructions.

Wheels roll up to a cracked parking lot. It’s unusually quiet for a Thursday night, only a couple other cars are in the lot. The door slams and she enters the crisp December air.

“Hello dear, surviving the cold evening?” The old lady at the cashier says her greeting.

“Barely” she answers, and places her items on the counter.

The cashier smiles, ringing her up. “And what are you planning on making with all this yarn?”

“A scarf, and I needed a slightly larger hook.”

She exits the store with the plastic bag bouncing against her leg. Probably should’ve set the reminder for earlier.