“Unfucking believable. Of all the places for him to show up….. this is insane. Do you think he bought it? That you’re my sister? When you left, he was weird, but he didn’t ask anything else. I managed to usher him to his seat, but he was zoned out the entire time.” Greta is pacing back and forth in the kitchen, like an erratic wound up chicken in a coop while I’m trying to cook the dishes in our order queue and not have an almighty mental breakdown. Tasks keep me sane, focusing on doing something, and yet not. Trying to keep my hands busy and not freak out the way Greta is. I go over and over it in my head and keep shaking myself mentally. After all this time, I honestly cannot believe this isn’t a dream that he’s here. In our village, in the Tarry Shack.
“I don’t know; I honestly do not know.” I think I’m in shock and knowing he’s up there, right now, has me shaking all over and my pulse at
