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June 9, 2010

Caitlin: You Can't Pick Your Family

She took a deep breath and opened the door. A bell at the top gave a cheery jingle, at odds with the dim interior of the shop. She walked past tanks full of fish, turtles, and frogs: big, small, saltwater, freshwater. They each had hood lights that provided nearly all the illumination in the place. He sat at a desk near the back wall, his head in a book. Is this what we’ve become?

His head snapped up before she was halfway there. They shared a long look.

“Artemis,” he sighed. “How nice to see you.” He sounded anything but.

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