This was not what I was expecting when I decided to come here today. “I think this is what they call an existential crisis.” He barks out a bitter laugh. “That, or a good old-fashioned midlife crisis.” “You’re only thirty-two. You still have all your hair.” A lush, thick mane that my fingers are itching to crawl through. “Yeah …” He doesn’t sound convinced. “I keep thinking about that girl that showed up last night.”
