The Truth Is in the Detours

by Mara Williams

The thing about decisions—and being bad at them—is that you have to keep making them. Each decision leads to another, and at each juncture, they demand answers.

Beau keeps his eyes peeled on the crowd, carefully avoiding the sight of the topless woman onstage while I stare. She pivots around a chrome pole, diving into an inverted split, her black sequin thong staying in place by sorcery. I don’t know if I’m more impressed with her confidence, upper-body strength, or whatever witchcraft she’s conjured to avoid a wedgie.

But this is the first thing in forever that feels better than okay. It feels Yes, and More, and Please.