I’m dripping with sweat. My skin feels like the surface of a freshly baked cookie; warm to the touch, with the promise of crisping.
It’s a Tuesday. I’m sitting in Fullsteam, carefully sipping a plastic cup of water. I check my phone. She’s on her way.
It’s a Thursday evening, at dusk. The residential street I’m walking down is lovely. Cozy homes snuggled into hilltops. Vibrant red and yellow leaves scattered beneath cars, aside curbs.
“All your life, you’ve never seen Woman, taken by the wind…”
I can’t get this place out of my head.
I bought a house! There’s no better way to celebrate than to select some tapestries to annoy delight my dear friend Claire, who has put me up for all this time.
I caught up on Girls, and now I want a tea set.
The beer bottle is wet. I wipe the condensation on my skirt, then take a drink. The bottle shakes in my hand. I put it down, and then read over the small, crinkled paper again.
When I was growing up, my grandmother lived in a four-story farm house.
A cold breeze, then, goose bumps. I wait for the beep beep beep of the timer to go off before asking Donna Moore, the Museum School Director, if she has her space heater.