@coupdevoix
The light from the fridge is sterile, casting sallow shadows into the lines of her frown. Inside the appliance is even more so- plastic tupperware filled with who knows what, yogurt, what looks like sliced cheese. Jessica hears the sound of keys in the lock, door swinging inward and she’s casual about extracting herself from the barren refrigerator landscape, letting the door slam overly loud while she settles into a bar stool. When her visitor ( well, technically she’s the visitor, as it’s his home ) comes into view she’s bent slightly at the waist, elbow propped on the kitchen island, chin held up by the heel of her hand. A smile that anticipates the twist of his expression, lips pulled taut while being careful not to show her teeth.
“Hi there.”
