"That'll rot your teeth," Evie said, crunching on a potato chip, the lustrous ebony of her hair curling over the shoulders of her white cashmere cardigan.
"Pot. Kettle. Black."
"God I love salt." Another crunch. "Since I have no shame, I'm going to ask you what it's like being mated."____________ Question: What do you all think of shifting to threaded comments on the blog? Yes, no, ambivalent?