Angelaboutme

“I don’t know how to do this,” she admitted. “The whole… feeling things. Being a person.”

“Margo who?”

“You ran across six lanes of traffic to save a stray cat last year.” angelaboutme

Margo still showed up, though not every day. Sometimes she appeared on the fire escape outside Lena’s new apartment, eating cheese puffs and watching the stars. Sometimes she appeared in dreams—quiet dreams, the kind where you sit on a park bench and watch the leaves fall and feel, for once, that everything might be okay. “I don’t know how to do this,” she admitted