Price of Perfection
by Christopher Moore Elias lived by the millimeter. Anything beyond that, a sliver of white daring to peek from beneath his nail, was an affront to his meticulously ordered world. His OCD, a relentless warden, kept him a prisoner of his fingertips. Clippers became his weapon, his constant companion. He'd snip in the office bathroom, the metallic clicks a frantic counterpoint to the fluorescent hum. Meetings were a blur, his eyes fixated on his betraying nails, willing them to stay pristine. Dates were a distant memory, the thought of someone tracing imperfections on his hand an unbearable trespass. One evening, the familiar itch bloomed, a thousand tiny insects burrowing under his skin. This time, the dull snip of the clippers only deepened his frustration. The uneven cut, a jagged mockery, sent a cold dread spiraling through him. He reached for the nail file, a desperate attempt at order, but it wasn't enough. The sliver remained, a defiant flag waving in the face of his con...