Chapter 6: Chests Touching
Colm Frost appeared on January 27, surfacing during a snowstorm that temporarily handicapped the city. Like an orphan in the storm, he stood at my apartment’s doorstep. The man looked healthy and unharmed. His eyes blazed a bright green, filled with much energy, and he resembled a well-rested man who had taken a long vacation.
Of course, I let him into the apartment, even if he never returned my many calls, Snapchats, Tweets, text messages, and e-mails during the past few days. I didn’t despise the man and couldn’t be pissed at him. Instead, I felt concerned for his safety and well-being. I wondered where he had been, and with whom, for the past three days.
He sat on the sofa where most of the visitors in my apartment sat. I served him a hot cup of coffee with
