Artemis sat opposite Hope in the Juice Bar drinking her Wheatgrass Shot.
"It would only be for one year" she pleaded.
"A year!" Hope almost shrieked.
"But think, I might even get tenure" said Artemis wistfully.
She did feel bad however.
Hope had just settled into her job as a plant therapist and Hope's passionate
veganism had finally extended to include fresh vegetables
(but dead ones were just too too sad, like dead meat said Hope with a shudder).
They had a lovely sunny apartment on Russian Hill (pictured here)
and were regarded as the Mona and D'orothea of San Paradiso's upmarket lesbian community.
"But honey" said Hope in her nicest voice. "I could come with you".
Artemis got out her Laura Mercier lipgloss (her article on Positionality and reflexivity in the lipstick counter: a counter hegemonic narrative had been one of her most important pieces).
"Don't you see..." (she paused and took a gulp of wheatgrass so strong she nearly choked)
"I have to do this on my own..."
TO BE CONTINUED....