Little Bambi left. Left?
I ran to my spot on the roof, between safety and the edge of glory. The crisp morning air and warm whiskey loosened my muscles. I woke up early to hide the appliances and my smart TV. How did I manage before a smart TV? Alejandro rained his fury on our stuff. Who had to haul these items down the creaky steps and replace them every other week or month? Me. Not him. He would only wonder, out loud to annoy me, how could he prepare his meals with no stove, microwave or a chair to sit?
Little Bambi left. Left? Steam did not rise above my head and shatter the mug in my hand. Little Bambi was gone. I did not fear for her life. Little Bambi was gone. For good. For all our sake, because there were no boundaries on her previous visit, crooked or otherwise. Little Bambi h
