Angel was sprawled across the couch, the TV turned to Seinfeld. She had a cigarette in one hand and a magazine in the other.
“Wish you’d at least take that shit outside.” Grace stripped off her soaking coat, peeled a dead worm off the sole of her shoe. She stuck her sneakers on the heater to dry.
Angel rolled her eyes, a puff of smoke escaping her lips. “And hello to you too, baby.”
Continue reading “In Want of a Home by Alannah Tjhatra”
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