The last Sunday Tiffany went to her father’s church, House of Yahweh, was four years ago, a few months before she relocated to the U.K. She sat in the row behind her father’s seat, where she had sat since she was a toddler. She sported ripped jeans and a pink off-the-shoulder crop top. Her face …
“I texted the girl, approached her woman to woman, told her to keep off my man,” you said to her, taking out your phone to show her your chat with Leah. She laughed. “Fine? That’s all she said?” “I should have threatened her or something, yeah?” “Girl, you’re being a clown!” She burst out laughing. You rolled your eyes. She’d know if she had a man.
I believe in God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Spirit. I believe in ghosts even though I don’t think they exist. I believe people are generally good and inherently evil. I believe crying helps sometimes but the headaches aren’t worth it. I believe good music can get annoying and bad music …
