But Cassandra Blueberry, wanna-be Blue Berry Girl of the great state of NWES City, was there instead. Similar in ways but I wasn’t suppose to talk about that any more.
“I thought your name was Constance” I replied to her greeting.
“Find me,” she said in her pleasant voice, with no hint of a troubled past. “I’m still relevant.”
I doubted it. I had chosen another. Wendy. Like “The Shining’s” Wendy except different. More red I suppose but perhaps not more bloodied. Ketchup again. I left Cassandra to hold the irrelevant mustard.