The Right Choice
By Clare London
I stand alone in my childhood bedroom, staring into the mirror above bookshelves full of fiction and adventure books, school award certificates, and an embarrassingly huge number of Transformer and Pokémon models. Am I musing on my younger life, and comparing it to where I am today, a grown man in his early twenties? Maybe a little bit.
But mainly I’m wondering whether the lurking spot on the end of my nose is on its way out, or is going to erupt when I least expect it.
Cue heartfelt sigh into the empty room.
Let’s face it, the sophisticated, handsome look on me always needs work, but it’s being particularly uncooperative this morning. Of all the mornings to choose! My hair won’t lie straight—there’s a tuft on my crown that insists on spiking up whenev
