Despite the number of times I’d rehearsed this speech during my walk back to the apartment, I couldn’t quite finish it now that she was in front of me. “But you don’t know me? We’re not friends?” she prompted. She put her hands on her hips, but it was hard to take her seriously with bed head and while wearing a hot pink and black zebra-print pajama shorts set. “Yeah, kind of. And I don’t have time to sit down and make new friends. It’s not that I don’t want to, or I don’t like you, or we can’t ever do this … it’s just, I need to figure things out first.” “Like what? You need my help.” “Like if the guy I thought I loved was really trying to kill me.” Char’s roses were still everywhere. Blood red, police-tape yellow, tombstone white. “Which one? If you’re talking about Ming, he thinks you, as Penelope Landlow, are already dead. He attended your funeral, we both did. And he didn’t have anything to do with your family’s murders, so let’s move on, m’kay?”
What do You think about Hold Me Like A Breath (2015)?
