The Ground Underneath
Chapter 7 of The Woods Behind Me
I didn’t meet Andrew in a moment of thunder or fate or dramatic movie lighting. He didn’t sweep in like a storm or glow like sunshine. He arrived in my life the way solid ground appears under your feet after years of walking through mud — steady, unexpected, and so reliable it made me suspicious.
He was funny in a way that matched me shot-for-shot. Not mean. Not sharp. His sarcasm danced instead of cut. Most people struggled to keep up with my humor — I’d veer sideways into a joke and they’d be left behind, blinking. Not him. He kept up. He fired back. Sometimes he even outran me.
I wasn’t sure whether to trust that or poke it with a stick to see what it did.
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