Revelry

by Kandi Steiner

For the first time in my life, I was owed nothing, and I owed nothing. Lonely or not, I was free.

No one may have owed me anything, least of all kindness, but it didn’t mean they wouldn’t give it, anyway.

But one cabin wasn’t the same. One car caught my eye. One moment, one look, and the haze I’d walked in for years blew out in a breath. Because every day was the same. And then I saw her.

“Yeah well, you ever wonder why so many have an opinion about what you do with your life, though? Is it because they really think what you’re doing is wrong, or is it because they need to convince themselves that what they’re doing is right?”

It was her eyes. They were eyes that had lived, eyes that had hurt. I knew, because I had them, too.

I had nothing to give Wren, but still I was stuck. Because no two days had been the same since I met her.

Life doesn’t exactly give us what we need when it’s the perfect time. It’s not a pitching machine straight over the plate. Life throws curve balls—hard and fast, unpredictable. But you still have to hit that sucker or strike out swinging.”