Bent

“It was nothing at first. Just a little twitch. My left ring finger was twitching, slowly, almost languidly, the way fishing line does when you’ve hooked something without any strength. Like a baby perch. I hadn’t even gotten out of bed yet.   My first thought: Stress?   (Nope, think again)”   And here begins a journey that Anne Clendening never saw coming, tried to deny, avoid, postpone and otherwise reject. After all, how does a dark L.A. hippy chick who swore off booz