rose lay underneath the kitchen, arms and legs stretched as if she were a starfish. she stared at the pieces of paper stuck to the underside of the table. with a groan, she covered her eyes with her hands. “tell me lola, why can i write an entire dissertation but can’t get a speech right for ma’s event? could you tell her i don’t want to do it. she’s met you once, right?” @hcppier














