Women's World: Part Three

Linda slips out of bed with that skin-crawling something's-off feeling gnawing at her. She pads through the living room and every step just makes it worse. The TV’s blaring, Diane Jones on-screen barking about the latest whatever, and smack—it hits Linda like a two-by-four. The whole goddamn world’s gone sideways. Her own couch doesn’t even feel like hers. Heart jack-hammering, she bolts out the door, barefoot and half-naked. Outside it’s a carnival of wrong. She slams right into Leslie, some sharp-eyed stranger who just blinks like nothing’s different, nothing’s weird. Linda peels away, running until her lungs burn and there’s Karen—finally. She grabs Karen by the shoulders, spilling every half-formed fear, but Karen stares at her like she grew another head. Defeated, Linda heads back to the house that doesn’t feel like hers anymore. Leslie walks off with a ghost of a word rattling around her skull. Later at her kitchen table she scrolls and scrolls—zilch. Fine. Library it is. She hits the stacks, flips through book after book, dead ends everywhere. Sighs, gathers the piles, and books it home to spill everything to her wife. Back at her place Linda steps in and stops cold. A skinny blonde, Haley, is lounging on the sofa like she belongs there, eyes cool, lips curved, not a goddamn clue who Linda is—or maybe she knows too well. Across town, Amanda wipes down the salon chairs, half-tuned in while Tanya bitches about some useless boyfriend. Amanda’s hungry stare says everything she never says. Then Tanya lets a little secret slip and Amanda’s chest flips. She edges closer, voice shaky, drops the bomb—she’s wanted Tanya forever. Tanya blinks, then grins, wet heat sparking quick between them as the clippers clatter forgotten to the floor.