“Do you think they’ll come?” Penny asked, nervously squeezing my hand.
I shrugged, and pushed back on the porch swing, enjoying the slight breeze the movement created, making every drop of sweat feel like the cool condensation from a ice cold glass of sweet tea.
“I’ll always love you, no matter what – you know that?”
I nodded, unable to speak. My mouth was so dry I couldn’t pry my lips apart.
“They love you,” Penny said. “They’ll love you even more now.”
“They don’t know me,” I managed, and licked my lips with a tongue like sandpaper.
“So let them in,” Penny urged, and then pointed down the trail. “Look! Here they come now.”
Today’s a big day. For two years, I have been Helena Hann-Basquiat — not just writing under that name, but to anyone who cared to interact with me, I was Helena. Some of you have been here all that time, and if you want to know who I am behind the mask, then you need only GO HERE AND READ my confession, or whatever you’d like to call it. I will answer any and all questions you may have. Thank you all for reading. It’s been a pleasure to be a part of this community.