“I’m not exactly sure how to start.” Libby lowered her voice, inching her wine glass closer as she waited for the waiter to vacate the area.
“Well, it’s clear that something is upsetting you.” she put down her menu and studied her best friend’s face. “When was the last time we had lunch, anyway... must be 6 months? I thought you were too swamped at work for this sort of thing.”
“I took the day ...”
“Good God! This must really be something. You’d better just tell me, start anywhere...”
“Okay”.... watching the condensation run down the side of her glass she adjusted her drink on the cocktail napkin. “ I’ve heard from J.P.”
“What?”
“I said, I’ve heard from J.P.”
“Libby, do you hear what you’re saying? J.P. is dead!”
“Of coourse he’s dead! I haven’t lost my mind. But I’m telling you,
I’ve heard from him.”
2 comments:
Hi Jeanne! This is Jean Stanula, Terry's daughter. She sent me the link to your blog and said you're looking for some folks to read your work. I'm a writing student in non-fiction in Washington, D.C, but I'm interested in poetry and fiction, too, and would love to read your stuff. I'm also pretty handy with Blogger, if you have any questions!
I like your website and I like the start of this story. Keep working.
Frank
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