Sunday, December 4, 2011

Hard Questions Part 1

Her fingers slid into her hair just above and behind her ears, and the weight of her head rested on her palm, elbow on the table.

I know that look.

She paused. Her eyes penetrating. Her mouth did that...thing. In a flash she set up, pushed the dishes around, and said, "Let the chilli simmer. Get your coffee and sit down. We are going to talk about this."

Coffee in hand, I slid into the chair across from her. She leaned forward, elbows on the table, looked at me as though she could see right into my brain and read the electrical impulses shooting through it, and then she asked one question:

"Why?"

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