Neither of These Men Are Named Steve
by Susan Matteucci Maybe if I hadn’t opened the door? No. The shades were open, he would have seen me. Maybe if I hadn’t been home. Mmm… no, I’d have just come home to David Abernath sitting on my couch asking how come I didn’t have HBO. “Hey, you’re smart.” He stepped on my foot. David Abernath knocked on my door, complimented me, and then stepped on my foot whilst entering my home. What were the Read more…