“Anxiety does not ask your permission. Anxiety does not come when expected. It’s very rude. It barges in at the strangest moments, stopping all activity, focusing everything on itself It sucks the air our of your lungs and scrambles the world.”
I’ve got my nose lodged in a rack of other people’s clothes when my best friend taps me on the shoulder frantically.
“How about this one?” Abigail asks, shoving a dead cat into my arms.
“Ew.” I jump back and nearly knock over a row of vintage dresses with yellowing sleeves and a certain old-lady smell to their armpits.
“Relax, Cham, it’s rabbit.” Abigail sniffs the collar and wrinkles her nose. “Or was rabbit.”
“You want a story?” she said. “Janelle’s going to test-run her machine. Report on that.”
“I don’t do human interest,” Germaine said. “What about David? Everyone’s saying he went home for some family thing, but that seems bullshit. You guys are dating or something, right? Where is he?
“I thought you just said you don’t do human interest,” Stevie replied, walking faster.