Voices
“You just don’t have a soul.”
It hurt when she said it, but I understood why my best friend was so upset. Braving arctic January winds, we had hiked a mile from Chicago’s downtown Loop to the only theater in the entire metropolitan area that was still showing Pride & Prejudice. She had spent two months threatening, begging and bribing me to see it, and I had caved. Now we were about to board a Green Line train at 10:30 p.m.—essentially asking to be robbed—all because she had been sure that this movie would finally make me a chick-flick lover.
By
Molly Redden
December 6, 2007