The skin on my thumb is worn and beginning to blister. It has been pressed hard against the metal edge of the hose since noon, desperate to make water come out faster,
An hour before our dinner with my principal, Mr. Blorenge, I was in a froth, shouting from the bathroom at Donatella. I’d been recommended, against my will, for a promotion.
All of them had personalities that announced themselves when they entered a room, that took up an enormous quantity of space, that made everyone want to straighten their unwilling spines. This would
Darryl Vickers isn’t hearing the frog sounds he’s listening for. He and Jansen are waist deep in a reeking swamp, recording ribbits. Frustrated, Vickers tromps around and chases the frogs. He manages