Someone To Talk To

Jena's knee-deep in junk at her folks' garage sale when this stranger named Ember wanders back behind the table and catches her solo. They shoot the shit and it turns out they both just stuck a parent in a nursing home, so the talk gets real quick. Jena drops that she's fucking terrified she'll grow old with no one warming her bed. Ember hears it, leans closer, and tells her to quit sweating tomorrow and fuck the present instead. Jena grabs that line and runs with it. Next thing she's got Ember's tongue down her throat, fingers tearing at zippers, and the two of them grinding against the stack of old lawn chairs like the world's ending right there behind all the yard-sale trash.