On a Quiet Street

by Seraphina Nova Glass

I don’t know if I have found true friends or if they are both absolutely nuts.

We clearly don’t know the same people, and if these two think this is just what a friend does, I wish I could stay here forever and be their friend.

“Plus, the cops are used to reports of me in people’s garages and cars and so they’ll think I’m trying to help find you. Like a vigilante.

“Wrong. Try starting over with a version that doesn’t blame me for you sleeping with hookers and coworkers and lying to me for years.”

“Oh, thanks for the permission, but I don’t need it.”