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Quote by Cristin Harber

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Sweet Girl

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Cristin Harber

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“I plucked one plump black olive from the plate and put it in my mouth immediately before saying, “Well, I feel bad for you, then.” “Why’s that?” “Because I love antipasto.” “I guess I don’t understand why that’s a problem.” “Because,” I emphasized, cutting into a piece of salmon. “I don’t like to share.” I quickly slipped the smoked meat in my mouth before winking at him. His smile finally met his eyes again. “Good to know, because I’m not the sharing kind of guy either.” He winked back at me, but it was so blatantly comical that I couldn’t help the laugh that flew out of my mouth. “Something tells me you’re not talking about cured meats,” I said before slapping his hand away from my olives. “I knew you were smart.” I swallowed the olive I’d snatched from his hand and glared at him, while mouthing, “Mine.” “Funny, that’s what I was thinking, too,” he said, looking directly at me.”

“That night I dreamt of the moment I found my mother’s body. My life was a series of befores and afters: before my mother’s death and after my mother’s death. Before I left the Monster and after I left the Monster. The first thing I remembered about my mother’s death was the minutes after. I’d always dreamt of it this way; remembering the after. It was during the after that I remembered the before.”