"We fucked up," I say to Katie. "Cat's out of food."
I was really the one who forgot, though, so back out into the misty night I go as is: t-shirt, plaid shorts I wore biking earlier that night, and flip-flops.
As I get to the counter at the 24-hour grocery with the cans, the friendly cashier looks me up and down and smiles, then says, "Casual night?"
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One year ago: Resonance
Two years ago: Formalities
Four years ago: Sympathy for the Elf Locks
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