Trashley: Part Two

Socks on Etsy.

Talking to a physicist was so refreshing. It felt like getting a free education. Ashley used four, five, and sometimes six-syllable words back-to-back. I didn’t know what she was talking about most of the time, but it sounded impressive. She taught me multi-universe theory, and I told her about when I saw an alien hiding behind a Spruce tree in Alaska.

This is real. I could’ve been the first blonde on Mars.

We ended up having more in common than I’d thought. She showed me an Oregon Trail pin she bought on Etsy days before we started talking, which must’ve been a sign because I wrote a book about the Oregon Trail computer game.

We had so much in common.

We watched the same murder docs and listened to the same podcasts about murders. I did my best, “I’m Phoebe Judge, and this is Criminal.” impression. Which in itself is irresistible.

I found it annoying that I couldn’t google her; she had no digital footprint. Did she live in the moment? Was she actually present? Swoon. But deep down, I knew it was a red flag. She could’ve at least had a Pinterest or abandoned…