Grimm Curiosities

by Sharon Lynn Fisher

A vast societal chasm stretched between us. There were pointy things at the bottom of it, and if anyone was going to be impaled upon them, it would certainly be me.

I had at some point come to think of Lizzy as my own. Not oafishly, in the sense of wanting to control her. But having some claim to the privilege of hearing her voice. Of knowing her thoughts. Of walking beside her, be it to the dance floor, to the church, or to the ends of the earth. There’s a name for that, man.

I read this several times - I loved it so much