artist:carol

2

“What do you do on Sundays?” Carol asked.
“I don’t always know. Nothing in particular. What do you do?”
“Nothing—lately. If you’d like to visit me sometime, you’re welcome to. At least there’s some country around where I live. Would you like to come out this Sunday?” The gray eyes regarded her directly now, and for the first time, Therese faced them. There was a measure of humor in them, Therese saw. And what else? Curiosity and a challenge, too.
“Yes,” Therese said.
“What a strange girl you are.”
“Why?”
“Flung out of space,” Carol said.