Emily McIntire

So… where are you taking me?”

Angie laughs. “Who cares where he’s taking you, girl? Just go.” She makes a shooing motion with her hands.

She shakes her head, placing her napkin on the table before standing and coming around in front of me. And then she plops down right in my lap. My hands shoot immediately to rest on her thighs, surprise flickering through me at her boldness. This I did not expect

Time heals nothing. Just gives things more space to grow and fester and rot.