The Papergirl
“OK, OK. I'm coming.” Every ring set off explosions in my poor head. Opened the door. “What is it?” Young girl standing there. Red hair, freckle face. Crisp white cotton blouse, red pleated skirt, running shoes. Her eyes went wide at the sight of me dripping wet, bleary eyed. The towel wasn't the best cover up. “C-c-collecting for the p-p-paper, s-sir.” She stammered. Sounded a bit confused. No wonder, my towel exposed me up to the hip but what was the big deal, my front was...