We expressed our excitement in whispers. She pinched me because hours earlier I had asked her to. We ordered the hallowed food. It was bland.
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I poured my soul into my letter to her and then I hit save and then I hit attach and then I hit send and then I waited and nothing happened.
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After weeks of cloud, the sun shines and its light makes its way through our house, and I think, Maybe this is the day we save our marriage.
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Debate escalates to argument and I stand up and yell, We’re all adults here! and there’s silence, and then someone says, You take that back.
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These pants used to fit once. They’re cool pants and they might be cool again some day. Just not on me. I’m a different person now. I’m old.
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I told her about my small town, hoping to evoke something in her, a connection perhaps. I waxed poetic. I’m a total big city girl, she said.
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She breaks the silence by asking if I’d like some coffee and I say, So we’re talking now? Then she says, My mistake, and retreats once more.
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We were running late. I watched as she struggled with an earring and asked if she needed my help. Why would I? she said. It was a long night.
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He was falling in love with the sad girl. He said, I want to taste your sadness. She went away and came back with a plate of scrambled eggs.
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The party devolved into a rush of various fluids and I decided to leave but when a woman spilled her drink in front of me I decided to stay.
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