Evy Kicking Stones (short story)

Evaline was kicking stones along the pavement towards my feet, some missing my shoes and skittering past. I was reminded of Charlott throwing stones at me when we were kids. Evaline wasn’t wearing yellow but should have been. Her somber black sweatshirt did not fit her whimsical, sardonic mood. She was getting married tomorrow and we were late for the rehearsal dinner and the bus wouldn’t ever come.
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