Even when she left, her habits stuck like glue.
The thin pencil marks on the walls. The cluttered desk. The tidy draw. Faded maps, marked with twink. Mint hot chocolates in her favorite mug, but only on Tuesdays.
Watching the headlines at 7:06 and leaving her leather boots under the drip.
He couldn't shake her off.
He still carried around her strawberry chewing gum that he hated, and the countless spare brown bobby pins still weighed down his pockets.
He still doesn't understand why.
Ily,flo xoxo
