Dense, The Second.

“Shut up, sit down, and stop ripping my jeans’ pocket!”

“Because I say so.”

“Listen to me… It’s easy…. Nooooo! I’ll let you go tomorrow, fuck it, I’ll even come with you and do it -but tonight, you’re coming home with me.”

“I know what you want, I don’t care, you’re not going to get it.”

“No! You can’t leave on your own!”

“Because I’m not going to let you, that’s why.”

“Where are you going?!”

“You think your ex will appreciate you showing up like this?”

“I don’t care that you’re independent… You’re being pig-headed.”

“It’s pointless to keep discussing. You’re acting like a child, and it’s boring.”

“I said, no! Enough of this asinine concept. I’m not giving it to you, you can walk back home barefoot if that’s what you want to do, or naked for all I care”

“What are you hitting me for?”

“Yes, I know you hate me. Yes, I know I’m the worst partner in the World… ”

“Fuck you too. I don’t care if you sleep with her, or with him. It’s all fine by me.”

“Listen, I’m not going to tell you again: Tomorrow, with swollen knuckles and a head splitting hangover, you can drive your car across the Continent, but tonight, I’m keeping the key and you’re sleeping at my place.”

“Oh! Really?! With all this open space and you get my shoes!”

When the air is so dense, all our ideas seem bright.

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One thought on “Dense, The Second.

  1. Pingback: Dense: Patterns | What's (in) the picture?

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