“Tugging her purse strap up on her arm, she headed for thedoor. “You have my cell number. I’ll text you. If something goeswrong and he pulls an axe, you’ll be the first person I call.”Michelle groaned. “See, this is why I worry. The first personyou call is the police. Then you call me and tell me the authorities areon their way and you’re hiding in a closet.”“Yeah, ancient wooden closet door versus axe? And you callme the illogical one?”
“Tugging her purse strap up on her arm, she headed for thedoor. “You have my cell number. I’ll text you. If something goeswrong and he pulls an axe, you’ll be the first person I call.”Michelle groaned. “See, this is why I worry. The first personyou call is the police. Then you call me and tell me the authorities areon their way and you’re hiding in a closet.”“Yeah, ancient wooden closet door versus axe? And you callme the illogical one?”
Virginia Nelson
“When you kissed me…I felt special.I never really felt like I deserved it.That isn’t your fault. That was me.When I looked down the aisle on our wedding day and you weren’t there, my first thought, as awful as this sounds, wasn’t, “Where is he?” it was, “Oh, it figures.”
Virginia Nelson“Tugging her purse strap up on her arm, she headed for thedoor. “You have my cell number. I’ll text you. If something goeswrong and he pulls an axe, you’ll be the first person I call.”Michelle groaned. “See, this is why I worry. The first personyou call is the police. Then you call me and tell me the authorities areon their way and you’re hiding in a closet.”“Yeah, ancient wooden closet door versus axe? And you callme the illogical one?”
Virginia Nelson, Hunting For LoveAll in One Creative & Marketing Platform to tell stories at scale
