When You Sneak Out with Kim for a Cigarette Between SGA and Lunch
Kim seems antsy, aggressive. She asks if you’ve ever stared at a turtle. You try to remember. The smell of burnt plastic comes from somewhere unseen. “Sure I’ve stared at a turtle,” you say. “Hasn’t everyone?” Kim leans forward on her elbows, drawing her voice close to the hot sidewalk cement like she’s chatting with the heat, urging the warmth… Read more →