It’s late. Really late. My sibling is showering in the bathroom across the kitchen. “Maybe I’m safe,” I think to myself. I walk over to the fridge, frightfully mindful of how loud my sandals are on the tile. Wincing at every clang and clap. “This isn’t a big deal” I remind myself. “You can chill out.”
the pickle thief
the pickle thief
the pickle thief
It’s late. Really late. My sibling is showering in the bathroom across the kitchen. “Maybe I’m safe,” I think to myself. I walk over to the fridge, frightfully mindful of how loud my sandals are on the tile. Wincing at every clang and clap. “This isn’t a big deal” I remind myself. “You can chill out.”