me look small.”
There it was. Finally. Not legacy. Not standards. Not class.
Size.
I stared at her.
“No, Eleanor. I didn’t make you look anything. I stood where you seated me.”
That one hit.
She looked away first, toward the street below.
For a second she seemed older than I’d ever seen her. Not softer. Just older. Like the lights had found the wrong angle continue reading …
