He’s Trying

3/10/26

Tonight I visit my lifelong friend to interrupt her private dinner party, and hopefully stop her attempted murder. Or maybe I’m just being dramatic. Sure, It’s unlikely my girl, Isabel, is actually in an any danger, but I picked up a weird vibe from her was raised to be cautious and unendingly paranoid. Both my parents, and their undiagnosed anxiety, had me convinced the world was ending on several occasions, but here I still am, and where are they? Well, probably just at home, but my point it, it never actually ends.

               “What are you doing here?” Isabel says when she opens the door in a little black dress and pumps to find me in sweats between her two professionally staged porch.

“Have you seen my laptop?” I say.

“No. Do you think you left it here?”

“Why else would I be here?” I say with my foot on the threshold of her designer, suburban, California home. “I’ve got deadlines, so… yeah! Better find it or I lose my job.” I pout. My over-fried nerves have me considering if I should’ve brought a weapon as I wedge through to the other side of the door. There doesn’t appear to be any people but us, which means I arrived just in time.

“We’re doing a couple’s dinner, and it was meant to start fifteen minutes ago.” I got here too early, and I abhor waiting on men. But I stayed and knocked she might be incapacitated, unable to find the door.

“Hello?” A husky man’s voice sings through the closed door. “Any one home?”

“Clay!" Isa