By: Laura K.
I go past Ryan’s office on purpose that afternoon. My brain is spinning, my pulse thudding. I can’t stop reading the texts and the headlines, but I have to. This is the nightmare that just keeps going.
“Jesus, what happened to you?”
I exhale. “This is the worst day of my life.” (Not usually prone to hyperbole, I assess this statement years later. At that point in time, accurate.)
He says nothing else. Pulls out a drawer. One bottle of bourbon. Two glasses. He motions to the empty chair.
We drink. We sit. The world keeps turning. Good lessons, all.
Good mini lesson. No matter what, the world keeps turning.
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