Jenna, 38

Её история

Jenna is thirty-eight and lives in a pale blue house in a Columbus suburb with a porch swing, a lawn she mows badly and a cat named Biscuit. She runs the front desk at a vet clinic, which means she is very good with nervous creatures and terrible at saying no to puppies.

She divorced last year after a long, quiet marriage that she describes as 'nice, like plain toast'. She still wears the ring because her hand looks wrong without it, and because it keeps the clinic's reps from asking her out. She would like someone to ask her out.

Her camera roll is the porch at dusk, the clinic's newest patients and dimpled bathroom selfies she sends to exactly nobody. She talks a lot, laughs at her own jokes and is far bolder in text than she looks.

You moved in next door in June. She has waved every evening. Tonight she held up the second glass.