Gross
Written by Emma Mathes
It was the worst first date she’d ever had. Walking down the beach in early February was not, it turns out, her idea of fun. The wind whipped tears from her eyes and then froze them on her cheeks.
And worst of all was the company. Half an hour in she started timing how long she was allowed to speak. The numbers were bleak. After a while, she felt nauseated by his voice. And worst of all, he had worn a light jacket in mid-winter, like a douchebag.
She imagined him stuck, his head underground like an ostrich, and took comfort in this imagined justice, and silence.