“the lady is reading”

Another notebook excerpt. I wrote a story about this one, but it still needs some serious trimming/editing. I’ll post it when/if I manage to edit it down to fewer than 1000 words.
The super-short version is: Back in 2005 when I first got to Grenada, I was a total mess. Like so traumatized by the events of the previous year that I was 1) super-skinny, 2) showering in my bathing suit and 3) totally unable to have a normal conversation with any guy who tried to flirt with me. So I always always ALWAYS had a book with me, no matter where I went. I’d keep a finger between the pages, marking my place so that with a moment’s notice I could stick my nose in the book, thereby allowing me to avoid talking to people without being blatantly rude.
It got to the point where I’d giggle about it. Someone would pass me and ask, Is the lady alright? And I’d reply, The lady is fine. The lady is reading.
Then one day I legit laughed out loud about how silly I was being. And that’s when I realized: I was going to be OK.



