Narrative nonfiction by patrick vance

I stood in the aisle watching her look through the glass at the frozen delights. Without realizing it, her reflection was also watching her, so now I knew I had a friend. Red was my color. I walked up behind her, gained another friend, and the trinity of our conspiracy was complete. The fourth had no idea what was to come next, but by no means did the 3 of us have designs on her with any sort of frozen delight.


Jon made me post this.