I don’t even know why we’re here. What are we talking about? We both look around and fixate our stares on various parts of the room. Furniture, the microwave, a bowl full of Red Delicious apples. I look up, you look down. You stare at the overhead light, I stare at the fraying carpet. Do I say something? Say what? It doesn’t matter. None of it matters. Not the apples, nor the stares.
by M. January. 12, 2016 1387 views