A silent smirk is all I could manage as I tuned in to him parrot the conversation we had but hours ago. Identical was the tone, volume, and mild enthusiasm as he shared his day’s events. An earned thanks danced with his ambiguous response, laced with alternative intentions. His quiet voice lures her closer, strained ear to hear his vacant words. Their meaning held hostage, entrapped by my memory of the account. Their recitation, their performance, their interpretive dance of our dynamic is void of the strained history and uncertain future.
The thorns emerging from every word I utter pierce my throat as I swallow them.
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