Rouges and Rebound
she calls and I turn back to her, she stretches the plate towards me, “The cookies.”
My smile is tight, “Right, thank you,” I take the cookies and walk into my apartment. Once I close the door I breath a sigh of relief before grimacing at the cookies, “Maybe I should get a dog,” I tell myself, it would be the perfect way to get rid of Gerta’s pastries. Playing hide and seek with my waste, because I don’t want Gerta discovering her uneaten pastries there, is getting exhausting.
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