so how was your day who cares
Fiction, Full of Crow, June 2009
Watch the leaves sway in the trees, and not talk. No, let's not talk. If you want to talk, let's do something else. Okay, let's do something else. Let's walk around the city. My earbuds are invisible, but I can still see your lips moving. You're singing a song you don't know I'm listening to. We go to a restaurant. You talk and talk. My fingers are sausages. If I ate the sausages, my hands would be shovels and I would dig clouds out of the dirt. We go to a bar. You won't stop talking. I smile and nod. There's a stuffed bear on the wall behind you, you're sitting within his grasp, his claws are at your shoulders and his teeth are about to sink into your melon. You tell me about this bitch at work and some shit she did and ohmygodsoboring. Smile, nod. I try to keep my eyes on yours but I keep looking at the bear because, seriously, he's getting closer and closer and I think he's going to eat you and I don't want to tip you off.