Sam feared old people. She feared their drooping folds, their soft edges, like a block of butter left out for too long. They haunted the office in their squelching orthopedic sneakers, moving so slowly that Sam sometimes expected them to leave behind snail trails of mucus. She drifted behind them in the hallways, keeping at least ten paces of distance. She didn’t like to get too close to their odor of mothballs and lye soap; she didn’t want to see where their hair had thinned to reveal the … [Read more...] about EOD