“All right, dammit! I said I was coming!”
Philip’s face is contorted in anger. One arm supports his weight against the doorframe, the other out of sight behind the door. An open, white robe drapes his well built body. A pair of black boxers helps keep him somewhat modest. Stubble sprouts all over his lower face while his hair shoots off at crazy angles. After a moment his anger is replaced by wonder.
“Kirsten? What’re you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same question.”
“Yeah, I suppose. Do you want to come in? That is, unless you’d rather run away, like before.”
“My running days are over.”
Philip gives me a long look, then swings the door open wide.
It’s dark inside but that changes when Philip pulls back the curtains. The mist outside is starting to lift and a single, bright ray
