Condescention?
"One should count each day a separate life."
Why did he have to find that particular quote just this week? Maybe it was time to unsubscribe to the quote/new word thing, if it was going to cause this kind of trouble.
Except the e-mail didn't cause the current state of affairs. It just trained a magnifying glass on it.
He watched her squint at the newspaper, knowing that she'd given up trying to remember where she'd put her glasses. How long would it be before she found a word too long to make the rest of the story worth reading?
She must have felt his eyes on her because she glanced up at him, a question there in her baby-blues about what he was doing. He gave her a half-grin which seemed to satisfy her.
Why? Why not instead ask her if she'd ever considered Seneca's words? What sort of answer would she come up with? Any? Or would she simply melt him with a dimpled smile and turn the conversation to designer fashion?
She was utterly charming. Wifty but wonderful. He wanted to reach out and touch the blonde silk of her hair. That would lead away from this less satisfying train of thought.
He'd feel less guilty. He was taking advantage of her. And he was growing bored because there was nothing intellectual about the relationship. Intellectual girls made him crazy too though. They were too tough to lead; the constant power struggle was wearing.
Where was the balance? There had to be some happy medium between a girl who started life over again every day because she couldn't remember the previous ones, and one who started life over again every day because of the curiosity that drove her mind.
"Can you drop me at Dillards on the way to work?"
"Of course." But how would he drop her out of his life?
----------
Prompted by AWAD 10/1/08 and a recent phone conversation.
Labels: Fiction







1 Comments:
Very good! ;)
Post a Comment
<< Home