Two, Alone

She laughed, tossing back the phone, "How depressing!" The writer felt defensive, "That's like, my schtick - a dreary poet who rejects catharsis." "Oh, honey,” she murmured, a finger prodding his cheek, “Rejection implies choice.” Across the room, a grey shorthair yawned with an air of annoyance, wondering why it’s human was talking to himself … Continue reading Two, Alone