storytime

she drums her fingers nervously on the table as her eyes slowly trace a line from the tabletop, over my folded hands, up to my face until her eyes meet with mine. eyes locked, she gazes for a moment and then takes a deep breath, exhaling with a sigh.

"so what do you think we should do about this?" she asks me, never taking her eyes away from mine.

i'm speechless. words normally spouting endless trash out of my mouth suddenly dammed up and i i struggle to make even the littlest noise, just to let her know that i'm still thinking it over, trying to figure out what to do about this and what i can do to make it better. i try to come up with the right thing to say, the thing that will solve all the problems the thing that will make It All Better.

"ummm" is about the best i can come up with, which hardly instills any confidence in her.

i'm not exactly sure where things went wrong. whether it was wrong just from the start or whether things started out well and degenerated from there. i didn't really see it coming, puttering around in my head as i do, when all of a sudden it was upon me, and i really didn't know what to think.

i look back at her, and she's still looking at me.

still. not moving.

still.

shit.

"well? what are we going to do about this?"

the question still hangs in the air.

"i don't know."

"typical."

she gets up and leaves the table, and i'm left staring off into space. waiting for her to return. waiting for her to return my gaze. waiting.

still.


talk to me | take it from the top
once upon a time | old school stories
what | who | more