OBVIOUS.
They sat on opposite sides of the table.
Silence.
A rustle of newspaper as he turned the page.
The bleeping of a cellphone keypad.
Then silence again.
The cellphone chirped and hummed as it vibrated. She picked it up and flipped it open to read its secret.
She sighed.
"What is it now?" He asked in his usual monotone - the type of tone that matched perfectly with a roll of the eyes.
"It's-" She stopped herself.
Probably not the best thing for him to know.
"Nothing, " she muttered.
He shrugged and went back to his paper. He really didn't care what the problem was. It was - as always - unnecessary drama. She would never admit it to anyone but he knew.. he knew too well how much she thrived on all this fucking drama. She was rarely happy for no reason. She was the outcome of a chemical reaction. A chain of events that lead to whatever emotion she would feel.
Silence again.
The phone chirped and hummed again.
Without looking at her he said, "You do realise that I don't give a fuck who that is since we're not together anymore."
She looked up from the message. He was hidden behind the newspaper he clutched in his hand - not because he was afraid to look at her... to meet her gaze- but because he really didn't give a fuck. He wasn't asking her. He was telling her.
"So," he continued, "Either tell me who the fuck it is so I don't have to hear that incessant sighing or I'm out of here."
Sometimes she really really really loathed him.
"He's back in town."
He. Him.
He folded the paper and tossed it onto the table. He nodded, stopped to light a cigarette and as the snakeskin lighter snapped shut he started nodding again.
"So?"
She blinked at him. "What do you mean 'So' ? He's back."
He was getting impatient. Was he really that oblivious or did he just want everything spelled out for him?
"He's got a girlfriend now."
He chuckled cruelly. "Well, that solves the problem, doesn't it?"
He picked up his newspaper again.
"I think he wants to cheat on her with me."
There it was. Now he was interested. The mercury irises scanned from left to right as his brain processed this new piece of information. He slowly put his newspaper in front of him and leaned forward.
Silence.
The phone chirped again.
He watched her as she slowly picked the phone up and read the message. Her big brown eyes - those doe eyes resting under a furrowed brow. She looked up.
"He says he thinks about me all the time. " Her eyes looked like they were about to release a storm.
She leaned forward over the table too and he took her hands in his.
She was about to open her mouth to ask a question but he interrupted her with an answer.
"Because they don't realise what they gave up until they lost it for good," he said. A cocktail of words and cigarette smoke.
She opened her mouth again to ask another question.
"Because men - especially ones like him - are assholes and they keep taking advantage of you."
"Because you're too nice."
"No, I don't think you need to change."
She sighed, frustrated at the thought of being so obvious to him. It made her feel naked. Boring. Predictable. She looked at him defiantly and sat up straight. Her mouth was about to spit out some bullets when he hit her with his artillery first.
"No. No you won't. You know why I know you won't do it? Because you're nice. Because I don't think you need to change. And because you're not stupid. You're not the type of chick that would do something to hurt someone else just to prove to me that they're not boring or predictable. And," He paused to light another cigarette. ".. because men - especially ones like him - are assholes. You deserve better."
He sighed and shook his head and put her in her place by muttering, "I really fucking hate it when I have to keep repeating myself and spelling it out for people."
He picked up his newspaper and read.
She blinked, cocked her head to one side and took a shallow breath to speak.
"Don't ask how. I just can."
Silence.
The phone chirped.
She stared at it as it buzzed but didn't even flinch to pick it up.
He watched her triumphantly over the comics section. "Good girl."
She felt victorious even though she knew it was his will more than hers that prevented her from grabbing the phone, calling him back and running to meet him right at that moment.
injenue 2006
They sat on opposite sides of the table.
Silence.
A rustle of newspaper as he turned the page.
The bleeping of a cellphone keypad.
Then silence again.
The cellphone chirped and hummed as it vibrated. She picked it up and flipped it open to read its secret.
She sighed.
"What is it now?" He asked in his usual monotone - the type of tone that matched perfectly with a roll of the eyes.
"It's-" She stopped herself.
Probably not the best thing for him to know.
"Nothing, " she muttered.
He shrugged and went back to his paper. He really didn't care what the problem was. It was - as always - unnecessary drama. She would never admit it to anyone but he knew.. he knew too well how much she thrived on all this fucking drama. She was rarely happy for no reason. She was the outcome of a chemical reaction. A chain of events that lead to whatever emotion she would feel.
Silence again.
The phone chirped and hummed again.
Without looking at her he said, "You do realise that I don't give a fuck who that is since we're not together anymore."
She looked up from the message. He was hidden behind the newspaper he clutched in his hand - not because he was afraid to look at her... to meet her gaze- but because he really didn't give a fuck. He wasn't asking her. He was telling her.
"So," he continued, "Either tell me who the fuck it is so I don't have to hear that incessant sighing or I'm out of here."
Sometimes she really really really loathed him.
"He's back in town."
He. Him.
He folded the paper and tossed it onto the table. He nodded, stopped to light a cigarette and as the snakeskin lighter snapped shut he started nodding again.
"So?"
She blinked at him. "What do you mean 'So' ? He's back."
He was getting impatient. Was he really that oblivious or did he just want everything spelled out for him?
"He's got a girlfriend now."
He chuckled cruelly. "Well, that solves the problem, doesn't it?"
He picked up his newspaper again.
"I think he wants to cheat on her with me."
There it was. Now he was interested. The mercury irises scanned from left to right as his brain processed this new piece of information. He slowly put his newspaper in front of him and leaned forward.
Silence.
The phone chirped again.
He watched her as she slowly picked the phone up and read the message. Her big brown eyes - those doe eyes resting under a furrowed brow. She looked up.
"He says he thinks about me all the time. " Her eyes looked like they were about to release a storm.
She leaned forward over the table too and he took her hands in his.
She was about to open her mouth to ask a question but he interrupted her with an answer.
"Because they don't realise what they gave up until they lost it for good," he said. A cocktail of words and cigarette smoke.
She opened her mouth again to ask another question.
"Because men - especially ones like him - are assholes and they keep taking advantage of you."
"Because you're too nice."
"No, I don't think you need to change."
She sighed, frustrated at the thought of being so obvious to him. It made her feel naked. Boring. Predictable. She looked at him defiantly and sat up straight. Her mouth was about to spit out some bullets when he hit her with his artillery first.
"No. No you won't. You know why I know you won't do it? Because you're nice. Because I don't think you need to change. And because you're not stupid. You're not the type of chick that would do something to hurt someone else just to prove to me that they're not boring or predictable. And," He paused to light another cigarette. ".. because men - especially ones like him - are assholes. You deserve better."
He sighed and shook his head and put her in her place by muttering, "I really fucking hate it when I have to keep repeating myself and spelling it out for people."
He picked up his newspaper and read.
She blinked, cocked her head to one side and took a shallow breath to speak.
"Don't ask how. I just can."
Silence.
The phone chirped.
She stared at it as it buzzed but didn't even flinch to pick it up.
He watched her triumphantly over the comics section. "Good girl."
She felt victorious even though she knew it was his will more than hers that prevented her from grabbing the phone, calling him back and running to meet him right at that moment.
injenue 2006
VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
And cheers on the Diana, there is nothing more satisfying than the sound of that mechanical click of the camera and the waiting and the fear that the picture might not come out as well as the surprise when the print turns out to be even greater than you remember.