That night on Facebook…and by that I mean, Annie Fitzpatrick’s night on the virtual social scene…21 notifications, all from the same source…Gloria.
Gloria “likes” this. Gloria “likes that.” Gloria comments on Annie. Gloria comments on Pat…but not so much Pat. A little bit of Pat, but an extra dose of Annie. You know what the doctor says. An Annie a day keeps the doctor…there!
“Annie! It’s Gloria!” Linda cried from the first floor.
Annie sighed, glancing down at her ivory hand. She took out a book and reclined in her bed.
“Gloria, how have you been?” Linda asked, wearing her best smiley face.
Gloria was a friendly gal. She talked to you. You didn’t have to worry about making conversation. She notified you. You didn’t have to worry about getting “likes.”
Gloria was a peppy person. She’d drive you to the convenient store and slurp Slushies with you so she could gaze at the owner’s son…while recapping you on her latest adventures with more boys.
But the problem was, Gloria didn’t have boys. She had them, but they weren’t hers.
Linda and Gloria talked for what seemed like ages had someone boring been present. For Annie, the time passed in an in-between sort of fashion. Annie didn’t want to read but she stuffed a book down her throat. Annie didn’t want to see the glorious Gloria, so the anticipation of having to get off her ass and spend time with Gloria made Annie feel, how do I put it? Lonely.