1.7.23
“For you to feel this way, I must’ve said something, I’m sorry to offend you.”
1.7.22
Evelyn watched the charming tragedy of her mistaken lover, propped up in between the spaces in the balusters.
1.7.21
“But you’re still here,” he contested, glued to the torrential fabric silently unfurling from the eye of her hurricanic mind.
1.7.19
“Do you want to sit?” Mo asked, and gestured toward the dull black pleather couch in the parlor. “I can make more coffee.”
1.7.18
Confusedly willing or willingly confused, Mo leaned against the spindles in the stairwell and the railing held him upright from above, unbending.