“I’m the best lesbian,” Cath announced suddenly, as she sipped her mug of coffee, sitting with her feet up on the three-seater Queen Ann couch they had had recovered in dark blue denim.
Andrea sat down in the remaining space at the end of the couch.
“My mother. That’s what she told her friend Vanda. Her daughter, Tália, was also lesbian. They were so competitive, those two. I heard them, one day in my twenties, discussing who was the best lesbian. My mother won the argument, as usual.”
“Well, that’s that then,” said Andrea, slurping her coffee, grinning.
©2019 Allison Wright