Chapter Seven
The diner door swung shut behind her as Myrtle started walking home. It was one of those hot afternoons where the breeze made you hotter instead of cooling you off. She was full of greasy food and taking a nap during her favorite soap opera, Tomorrow’s Promise, was the next order of business.
Her plans were foiled, however, with a yoo-hoo from behind her. Myrtle’s face was pained as Erma Sherman drove up and pulled over onto the curb. She opened the car door and waddled towards Myrtle. She was wearing a large-print, flowered dress that hung on her big frame like a tent.
Myrtle flinched as Erma sidled up into her personal space to talk. Her large, rodent-like teeth were exposed in what Erma fondly thought of as a smile. “Where are you heading, Myrtle? I’ll drive you there.
