Mary and I just had a conversation where she asked me how I liked a book, I told her she’d never leant me the book, reminded her that she was actively holding the book while discussing it, and that I live two hours away from her and we are on phones. She proceeded to hysterically wheeze ‘YA KNOW,’ and other Mary idioms before she described not knowing how to sigh without screaming anymore.

I want to bottle her essence and use anxiety as a perfume.