Miss Noelle Donnelly

the girl

At the bottom is a door. He pushes it open into a small square room, completely clad in the same heavily varnished pine as the living room and the kitchen.

though she’d thought that she would just fade away here until there was nothing left of her.

man.

Something not right. Something to do with Floyd and Poppy. She can’t pin it down.

suffused with existential joy?

It was a photo of you.

But why, she wonders, is she not talking to me about it?