“You don’t remember me, do you?” the woman next to him asked. He looked at her again. She was black. Older. Beautiful. Her dreads were brown, blond, gold, white, and gray. Her eyes dark brown. She wore an African-style necklace made of wood and ivory that looked, at least to his eye, expensive. Her bracelet was white gold and diamonds. But despite the money around her neck and wrist, she wore only casual shorts and a worn Bob Marley T-shirt. The flip-flops on her feet probably only cost her three bucks at an Old Navy summer sale. “I’m sorry. I don’t.” “Well . . . you were in the middle of
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mmmm .... alrighty then
