Page 117 - Anonymous
P. 117
up then, get lost in that head of yours.
The dark makes you nervous. You wring
your hands in your skirt.
Have you noticed how often you
disregard the feeling in the pit of your
stomach that eyes are on you as you
scour the fresh produce aisle for the best
potatoes, unblemished, so you can bake
them with the skin on for supper? He
likes it like that.
