MaryBoone

They sent me home without my chocolate. Standing in the wreckage with no alibi, I tried to apologize, but “sorry” was not as good as the good china. I willed time to stop and go backwards to where I never reached for the small knob on the lid of that fancy blue dish, but time never flinched and the porcelain dropped and scattered in razor edged pieces across my party shoes. There wasn’t even an Easter egg inside.