susannav
like a boomerang, like a planet in orbit, like an elastic band stretched tight and then released, she always, always came back to him. The annoying part was that he knew it, too.
it was a miracle that he'd been chosen: he knew that. He was in his thirties, he was white, and there were colored folk and women equally qualified for the position. Affirmative action had not been kind to his brothers nor his friends and he'd been sweating over the announcement for days. He wasn't going to be picked, he'd told himself over and over again. Now he had been. He just wondered how in the world he was going to keep the position.
"I would have a boyfriend, too, if I flashed my tits at anyone who smiled at me."
the silence had a sickening sense of unnaturalness likened only to the noise of a bone snapping, bent backward and jutting into daylight. what I said began to sink further, through the levels of anger and thudding deeply in my stomach. regret.
she didn't know how it happened. She'd done her best to avoid permanence: she redecorated, she changed the position of her bed, she changed routes to work and routes back home. but somehow, here of all places, she'd grown roots. she wasn't entirely comfortable with that.