The single mother of two Tweens and 1 Ween. She closes the blinds often, particularly in summer. I comfortably numb braless in a tank and boy shorts. I light up and blow smoke rings. I smile at her simultaneously with a raise of my beverage of choice. Nowadays, coffee, seltzer or club soda, and Underberg. She shakes her head, damning me to Hell. My condition is internal Hell.
Oh, my point. She moved her daughters in tow.
Her mourning coffee 