I stare at the phone from its place on the other side of the couch. It sat there ever since I had retrieved the mail a few hours ago. All I wanted to do was find the owner, but when I had opened the screen to find a contact list, it was already loaded on something that I could only describe as a weather screen and I barely touched it when the snow starting fluttering from the sky. In July. In Arizona. I promptly waltzed into the house, threw the phone onto the couch, and sat on the other side to watch it, drinking my way through a six-pack.
The good boy found her, a blonde angel in her blue robes, resting upon a bed of freshly-fallen snow.
Analyzing feminism through the tween book series, The Baby-Sitters Club.
comes unannounced, unwanted.
It is the uninvited houseguest that arrives laden with its baggage
and leaves its messes on the floor,
in the kitchen,
in the hallway,
and smears ugly, wet stains on the pillows.
It is the unwashed clothes,
the dirty dishes,
the neglected chores,
and the suitcase with his t-shirts and cologne under the bed.