After almost getting killed it shouldn’t have felt reasonable to don black leggings with lace at the ankles and an electric red silk top for a date with three young men, but it did. I felt, not Isabel-ish but not Stan-ish either, as I unbraided and brushed my waist length hair until it crackled like the pit of my stomach during Kel’s kisses. Once the tangles were out, I piled it into a decorative wad on the crown of my head.
Perhaps this was how Rosemary felt? And why she was able to be all she could be, when she wanted to. I felt alive again, filled with an anticipation I hadn’t felt since high school graduation, as if my life, and maybe even the world, was just waiting for me to jump in and experience it. I attached dangly gold earrings from New Orleans to my lobes, traced red around my
