Role Playing

by Cathy Yardley

For a freelancer, busy meant money,

would rather eat my own intestines than cross your threshold.

Maggie was not the type to make friends.

Good grief, it’s not like your life ends at fifty and you become some sexless robot. It’s

Aiden looked like a goofy ginger lumberjack:

Was this what adulting was like? At fucking fifty?

This was no kid. He was about six foot one,

a tiny woman with no filter and lots of attitude.

She’d been single for years, and had no desire or intention to date. Not that I want to now!