man, don’t you dare come here. I don’t need you. Just go die of old age alone.
For a second I thought I’d misread it. I blinked hard, as if my eyes were the problem. Then I read it again, slower. Word by word. The same sentence sat there, cold and ugly, like a boot print in fresh snow.
My kitchen was warm from the stove, the smell of sugar and cinnamon continue reading …