Divorcing My Vibe
Anna walked in the door, shutting it with force just short of what could be considered a slam. She absently tossed her purse on the coffee table, and headed straight for the shower. She felt as if she had a cloud of stale cigarette smoke hovering around her auburn hair from the bar, and she reeked of beer because some drunk had spilled it all over her while delivering the worst pick-up lines she’d ever heard. One more night of the world proving to her that all the men were married, gay,...