She Was Sitting In My Front-Row Seat Holding My Novel — Smiling Like She Had Stolen My Life

glass followed me up the stage steps.

It was sharp, bright, and almost musical.

A hundred faces turned from Celeste to me, then back again, trying to understand why the quiet wife from the aisle was walking into the white circle of light.

My knees felt hollow.

My mouth tasted of copper.

But I kept moving.

The moderator reached for my hand and squeezed it continue reading …