Stef snaked through the crowd and regretted deeply that she had not seen Molly before Molly had seen her. She felt that familiar pang in her gut, a flush across her cheeks. Stef had often felt this way with men, that the men she had dated did not or could not understand her. She had chalked this up to differences in chemistry, biology. With Molly she had begun to suspect there was something within herself that prevented understanding. Like God, she was unknowable.
Molly did not share this opinion.
“You’re not divine,” Molly had said to her once, “You’re just an asshole.”
But like God, Stef was dynamite at the start of things, largely absent in the middle, and breathing fire by the end. Continue reading “Dark Matter | Aliceanna Stopher”