Aja Anderson

My Milkshake Brought the FBI to the Yard

Absolute silence is much louder than people think. It hums aggressively in the ears and wraps around your senses like a wool blanket, itchy and uncomfortable. I’m also itchy and uncomfortable as I try to avoid the piercing eyes of my best friend, Gwendolyn. Don’t let her whimsical name fool you, she’s as much Tinkerbell as a Doberman fitting into a teacup. Hah! She eyes me, unimpressed, and my smile falters. The chair creaks under my weight as I nervously shift, reaching for the damp napkin under my sweating cocktail. My drink and I have that in common at the moment, it seems.