Great. The phone buzzed obnoxiously as she stepped out of the tub.
“Yeah?” she shouted over the sound of water spiraling down the drain.
“I’m outside; you coming or what?” Her boyfriend’s tin-can voice asked.
Patience, geez. “Almost. Just getting out of the bath.”
“Well, hurry up! We’re gonna be late,” he huffed.
Bet he’s bouncing his knee and drumming his fingers. “I gotta dry off first; give me ten minutes.”
“Just throw on some jeans and a tee and get out here,” he argued.
We won’t be late anyway. “It’s easier to get jeans on a dead body than wet legs,” she spouted.
“How would you know?” He laughed.
You’ll see. “I interned at a mortuary one summer.”