He was about her age, twentysomething; he was also, somewhere under his filthy clothes and exploding dirty hair, good-looking. Handsome even. Drug addict, she concluded. Any second her Uber would be here.
Cracks in the Sidewalk
Lynne Pickett’s When We Fell In Love
By high school I was sitting in front of a full-length mirror, staring at myself (as all teenagers do) and would tell stories into that mirror for hours as I completely lost track of time.