After telling the owner I am quitting for good this time, he chuckles. Ashley offers to help clean out our locker. The door swings open. I slip off my sandals. She laughs, asks, What are you going to do, dance? —& stuffs my heels in a duffel bag.
Jenni Russell Read Bio Author Discusses Poems
|©copyright 2004-2019, No Tell Motel. All poems ©copyright the authors.|