Short Story | For Always

She looked at me from across the round table on the second floor of the library. She watched me continue to type. She waited for me to finish studying. She wasn’t attending school like she had planned. I was in college. She was unemployed. The bags under eyes mirrored that of my own, but deeper. Her eyes were dry and red. Everything about her seemed sickly. Ragged as she seemed, she still wore an ear to ear smile. She wore a long-sleeved shirt under a summer floral dress. And it was a habit. I showed her mine, and she showed hers.

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