“Why the shoelaces?”
The question had emanated unexpectedly from the slight, dark-skinned woman working the register at CVS. I stopped fumbling with my wallet long enough to glance upward and meet a pair of striking, hazel eyes, which abruptly broke contact with mine before wandering for a few long seconds, settling finally upon the crest of my right shoulder. I checked to see if I had missed a stain.
“I’m hoping to make a noose, actually,” I replied. “You wouldn’t happen to know how to tie a hangman’s knot, would you?”
