I mentioned a story about renovations…
The renovations started in June.
They closed on the house in October — Judy had a feeling about the place; Steve thought it had good bones — and lived with the ugly panelling, the wonky ceilings, the strange toilet all winter long.
As soon as the weather was consistently warm, down came the hideous panelling.
And behind the panelling, they found a note, written in sharpie across the drywall.
September 20, 1970: I hung this panelling with my own two hands. -K. Thomas Continue reading
Oh was exactly what Abigail didn’t want to hear. She pulled clean-Liv towards the fountain, biting her lip, wishing she had a weapon, any sort of weapon, even a fork.
How had Liv gotten so far away? How had she let Liv get so far away?
This Liv didn’t listen to her, and the one whose hand she was holding was trying to get away, and – “I am not cut out to be the responsible friend,” Abigail muttered. She shoved aside a clothing rack and hauled Liv in toward the fountain.
Dirty-Liv was naked, in the fountain, which was easily deep enough to serve as a bath, and she was staring at –
“Fuck.” Continue reading