Twisters

T 5670

By Arjun Basu | Published: June 3, 2012

A woman walks up to him at the café. You look nothing like your avatar, he sniffs. The dance of the awkward pause. You’re so naive, she says.

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T 5669

By Arjun Basu | Published: June 3, 2012

I lost the ability to dream. I was left with hope, but my hopes were pedestrian, going no further than cheeseburgers. And then my wife left.

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T 5668

By Arjun Basu | Published: June 3, 2012

I’m having a moment, he says. She rolls her eyes and says, You make a big deal out of everything. But the sandwich won’t come back by itself.

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T 5667

By Arjun Basu | Published: June 3, 2012

He hates parties but the girl is cute. He says, In my previous life I was a carpenter, and she flees, and he remembers why he hates parties.

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T 5666

By Arjun Basu | Published: June 3, 2012

She said she’d come over and he said, When? She found him aggressive and she said, Later. He waited for her. But she was passive aggressive.

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T 5665

By Arjun Basu | Published: June 3, 2012

It was spring, and they went for a walk. The lilacs were blooming. The flowers smell like smoked mackerel, he noted. She knew he was trying.

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T 5664

By Arjun Basu | Published: June 3, 2012

He sheds the weight and becomes amoral. He speaks of the abdication of loss. Those are big words for a jerk, she says. I’m horny, he admits.

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T 5663

By Arjun Basu | Published: June 3, 2012

I want to say something funny here, to cut the ugly tension. But I have always been devoid of humor. I blame my mother. That makes me laugh.

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T 5662

By Arjun Basu | Published: June 3, 2012

The PR agent hates obituaries overshadowed by someone else’s passing. No one dies at a convenient time. She never had good timing, he thinks.

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T 5661

By Arjun Basu | Published: June 3, 2012

His finger’s broken, and that’s what he wants to text her, but he gets frustrated and punches the door and breaks his hand. And feels alone.

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