The Darkest Joy
“I’ll admit it, it’s kinda narcissistic, checking myself out like this. The hell with it. I do another slow turn in front of the only mirror in my aunt Milli’s cabin.
It’s silvered and dotted with age, and my reflection is peppered and distorted.
Not that it matters, because my reflection is as ugly as it can get. I’m wearing Levi’s 501 button-up jeans I snagged at a thrift store on the way down through Anchorage, a microfiber long-johns-type shirt layered underneath a long nubby wool sweater in olive green. Topping off the horrible look is bright orange bibs, the waterproof scrubs of fisherman. I look like Ronald McDonald without the face paint.
I groan. So shoot me, I want to look good for Chance. I might deny the intensity of our attraction, but he’s on my radar whether I want it or not.
I sigh, stalking out to the front porch where the ugly brown boots wait. I open the door and there they sit, mocking me. I plunk my butt down on the solid log bench to the left of the wide plank doo...r and tug them on.MoreLess
It’s silvered and dotted with age, and my reflection is peppered and distorted.
Not that it matters, because my reflection is as ugly as it can get. I’m wearing Levi’s 501 button-up jeans I snagged at a thrift store on the way down through Anchorage, a microfiber long-johns-type shirt layered underneath a long nubby wool sweater in olive green. Topping off the horrible look is bright orange bibs, the waterproof scrubs of fisherman. I look like Ronald McDonald without the face paint.
I groan. So shoot me, I want to look good for Chance. I might deny the intensity of our attraction, but he’s on my radar whether I want it or not.
I sigh, stalking out to the front porch where the ugly brown boots wait. I open the door and there they sit, mocking me. I plunk my butt down on the solid log bench to the left of the wide plank doo...r and tug them on.MoreLess
Write Review:
User Reviews: