Tears Over Coffee
Part I of Kinship of Spirit
The door bell rang. Miths made her way through her apartment’s living area, towards the door, and looked through the peep hole. She saw a familiar head of hair, looking downwards. The curls were slightly visible, she knew who that was. Christy.
She unbolted the door, opened it and held it slighty ajar with her hand on the inside knob. Christy raised her head, at the suddenness of the door opening. She stood there, in her jeans, button down shirt, heels and the over-sized handbag she lugged around with her. She looked as if she’d gotten there in a hurry. She had forgotten to apply her coat of lip gloss, something she always does, though she’d forgotten it now. Miths slowly looked at her watch. It was past 1 o’clock. “Wasn’t she supposed to be at work?”, she thought.