My Foreign Husband
he laments.
I sneak into my wristwatch. I look at it. Time seems to be messing with me. It hasn't been more than five minutes since Penelope started filling me up looking for answers. I almost moan with frustration when I notice that it is so long before my day comes to an end.
"It's strange, but it makes sense," says my friend, hitting her nails lightly on the table. "Getting in love can be compared to a lot of manure, because it only ends in shit. The motto is not to fall in love, guys. Follow that and be happy.”
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