"Where will you be later?"
"I will be here waiting."
She pointed, poised in her wrinkled slip, I didn't think people wore them anymore thus why she intrigues me. Inviting me in such a way that made me feel connected, but young. I felt myself compelled to follow her everywhere. I’m afraid I might miss something. She already knew everything, and I felt most comfortable in not having to say words to her that would have frightened me if I spoke them too loudly at her.
I keep speaking of daggers, but have used none.