Twisters

He explains that he can’t believe in destiny and she doesn’t understand him and he repeats himself, again, and she says, But you hit my car.

Another bottle of wine opened, the flirting moves to action, but this wine’s corked and that bugs him. And she loses her desire. Completely.

They drove home in silence, the street lights illuminating sterile stripmalls. She fiddled with her pearls. She knew he had seen everything.

Song filled the room, voices converging into a chorus of one. Until the old guy fell over dead. And then cacophony. Except for some laughter.