A Ghost of a Chance

by Brittany Kelley

The great thing about small towns is that almost everyone knows each other. On the other hand, the worst thing about small towns is that almost everyone knows each other.

TAROT, KOLACHE AND TEA

Now it blinks ROT ACHE, once, then twice, then sends up a shower of sparks before dying… and that pretty much sums up how I feel, too. A big ole rotten ache.

Tilly taught me tarot. She taught me to be open-minded. She taught me little witchy rituals that made me feel special and close to her. She taught me how to be… well, me.

“I got a great deal on it,” she says, and I raise my eyebrows at her. “I’ve never been able to pass up a deal on dick.”

Mostly just fucking hot, because it’s like Texas hasn’t gotten the memo that

the last few days of September shouldn’t feel like a front-row seat to Satan’s armpit.

and tired of this Tilly woman torturing me

Can’t say I love the décor choice, even though I do admire Tilly’s literal balls-to-the-wall execution of a theme.

I don’t do together, not anymore.

Tara: We were at the same shop, and we reached for the same set of butt plugs at the same time. It was love at first anal encounter

Tara: That was a joke. I would never bring up butt plugs on a first date Me: You just did Tara: This isn’t a date, this is pre-game texting. This is the warm-up Me: I must not know the dating etiquette when it comes to sex toys Me: I can’t say I’ve ever texted about butt plugs Tara: Me neither, but that’s why we’re in love, you know? You filled the hole in my…