Sometimes I look for new articles or new developments in the case. I scroll through the comments to where people speculate that they were out in the woods, “doing what teenagers do.” As if they got what they deserved. My blood boils.
Her bedroom consisted of my chair, a mattress with sheets, a towel, a bottle of lotion and a bottle of lube. At different times I found lingerie, a Valentine’s Day stuffed animal, and a poorly written high-school assignment marked 70 percent.
In San Francisco, the average rent of a one-bedroom apartment is over $2,500 a month. Now that I'm getting a taste of that absurdity, at what point do I give up the ghost and just start working remotely from Small Town, USA?