“Where are you,” she texts.
When I tell her, she asks: “Are you coming or not?”
I say, “Where?” and she says, “You know where,” meaning the
new restaurant she is supposed to cover and I say, “I thought you didn’t want
me to come,” and after a delay, she texts, “Are you coming or not?”
I text: “Do you really want me there,” to which I get no
response.
I am almost home, tired, depressed and feeling every bit as
lonely as I ever had, and so, I park my car and go into the house, finally get
a text saying: “Where are you?” again.
To which I reply and again she asks, “Are you coming or not?”
and I respond, “Do you really want me,” and again I get no response, and like a
dog in heat, I go back out, down to where I know she is, and she asks when she
sees me, “What are you doing here?”
“You texted me,” I say. She says, “I was texting my brother.”
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