Eric moved the broom experimentally and made an attempt to sweep the glass into the pan while it lay in the middle of the floor. Of course, the pan slid away. Eric scowled.I’d finally found something Eric did poorly.
Hey, our hair’s the same color, I said, eying us side by side in the mirror.Sure is, girlfriend. Eric grinned at me.
I’d never seen anything like it. First a trial, then a few murders, then dancing. Life goes on. Or, in this case, death continues.
Could I tell them I was sorry their loved one was dead, when he’d tried to kill me? There was no rule of etiquette for this; even my grandmother would have been stymied.
There’s no way you can kill someone and get to the other side of the experience unchanged.
It’s probably a bad indicator of your lifestyle when you miss your ex-boyfriend because he’s absolutely lethal.
The full moon symbol on my calendar no longer seemed to be a period marking the end of something, but just another way of counting time.