The Morning After
That evening, Denise burst through our door wearing a scarf.
“What did you do to me?!”
Her hair was neon green.
“It’s just color,”
I replied calmly.
“It fades.”
She screamed that her fiancé was reconsidering the wedding after learning what she’d done to Theresa.
I opened the family group chat and shared the photos.
“For clarity,”
I wrote. Continue reading…