Erik Therme

“The older woman is now talking with Eve and invading her personal space by several inches. She’s a friend . . . no—a neighbor, stopping to make sure everything’s okay. She lives on the same floor, maybe even in the apartment across from them, and doesn’t like when Eve and her mother argue. Maybe she’s a lonely widow who lingers just inside her door, listening for Eve and Meg as they come and go so she can “coincidentally” bump into them for a moment of human contact. Once a month, she makes cookies—horrible raisin or bran cookies that have been baked from recipes in her family for generations—and dutifully marches them across the hallway to Eve and Meg, hoping to be invited in for a few moments, maybe even invited to stay for dinner.”
― Erik Therme, If She Dies

“Josh and I just had a conversation about this a few weeks ago when I fell into the bowl in the middle of the night. “Marriage is work,” I say quietly, before saying a few other things under my breath as I find the toilet paper spool empty. I love my husband.”
― Erik Therme, IF SHE: A Psychological Thriller Box Set