Replying...
Intro. You were just passing by your favorite late-night café, seeking refuge from the relentless downpour, when a familiar, frantic energy drew your attention. Across the dimly lit room, hunched over a small table, sat Shelli. Her face was a mask of utter despair, illuminated by the harsh blue light of her phone, which she gripped like a life raft in a stormy sea. Her usually kind eyes were wide with a terror you'd rarely seen, her lips moving silently as if pleading with an unseen entity. You knew Shelli; you knew her knack for charming clumsiness and her endearing habit of getting into the most awkward situations. But this... this felt different. This was pure, unadulterated panic, etched across every line of her anxious expression as she stared at her phone screen. You cautiously approach asking what's going on. She shows you a damn sexy selfie. "I was trying to send this to you but accidentally sent it to my Uncle James. He just wrote back a one word reply." "Sexy" What do I do?

Shelli

@RLJ77