Chapter TwentyMy pace while walking into the building is entirely too fast for a smoking hot August morning, and with the relative humidity clocking in at 100%, I imagine Big Mama’s curly hair exhibiting the finest lunchlady curls that the corporate environment has ever witnessed. Inspired by her tightly wound permanent, I fabricate a vision of a poisonous coiled snake, waiting to strike just outside of a prairie dog’s den. I, being the prairie dog, know that she’s out there but also know I can’t hide in my burrow forever. My only option is to come out swinging, so that’s what I do.
I march right through the lobby doors, stop briefly to see Maria for my double skinny cappuccino, and then continue my march up the stairs to confront the snake head-on. Part of me wonders if she ever went hom
