then he said, leaning forward: 'you’re strange animals, you women intellectuals. tell me: what's it like to be a woman?' i took my rifle from behind my chair and shot him dead. ‘it’s like that,’ i said.
then he said, leaning forward: 'you’re strange animals, you women intellectuals. tell me: what's it like to be a woman?' i took my rifle from behind my chair and shot him dead. ‘it’s like that,’ i said.
“my last name was already reserved by you.”
it’s been years, sinclair; you still exist in my mind. i miss you so much, more than i could ever feel for others.