He pointed out a few things here and there, white light shining off his bald head, but mostly, he said nothing, and mostly, I pretended to be interested in walls while watching him move, look, change, turn.
I wanted to know two things: how the glass behind her had shattered and what they’d done with the old carpet.
“You’re doing great!” said Random Old Guy. He was standing in line behind me, wearing curly gray hair, boxy orange… Read more Bars
And tonight, I was awkwardly but bravely standing in the back doorway of the shop, passively waiting for something to happen… like a fall, followed by a catch or a crash. Something.
I paused. “That’s so beautiful. That tells me that death was freeing for her — accidental, supposedly, but freeing. Why?” I looked up at her, the dead girl. “Why was she unhappy? Why did she hate herself?”