Feb 3, 2015
It’s New Year’s Eve, and Dana walks hand in hand with the stranger through the unfamiliar town. The night is moonless and still, quiet except for the crunch of the girls’ tall boots over rock salt and snow. Dana weaves a little, hip bouncing softly against the othergirl’s. Her gait is tequila-loose, and she’s grateful for the stranger’s grip on her hand, grounding and warm. Neither remembered gloves.
“Have you been with a girl before?” the stranger asks as they turn the block.
They can see Shelby’s house now, a beacon shining at the end of the dark street like a ship at sea.
—“First,” by Emily Toombs
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Photo credit: Martina K, Alexander Ward
