I Wrote a Story
Excerpt 2 from a book I will never write:
"how do you know if someone actually loves you?" my daughter asked.
I sat down with my coffee and looked at the clock across the room. 9:15.
"What's that?", i asked between gulps.
"I asked how to know if someone really loves you." Oh, she was serious. Alright.
I smiled nervously, looking at my wife who was pretending to be busy cooking breakfast. She played the "I'm-not-interested" part pretty well but I knew she wanted to hear my response.
"You know because they'll want the parts that everybody told you to throw away. They'll sit on a rooftop somewhere at some ungodly time of night and eat the most unhealthy food you could imagine with you. But most of all is that they won't be able to get enough of all the parts that you were convinced were unlovable."
I decided to breathe again and use the newly obtained oxygen to grab myself more coffee.
"how do you know if someone actually loves you?" my daughter asked.
I sat down with my coffee and looked at the clock across the room. 9:15.
"What's that?", i asked between gulps.
"I asked how to know if someone really loves you." Oh, she was serious. Alright.
I smiled nervously, looking at my wife who was pretending to be busy cooking breakfast. She played the "I'm-not-interested" part pretty well but I knew she wanted to hear my response.
"You know because they'll want the parts that everybody told you to throw away. They'll sit on a rooftop somewhere at some ungodly time of night and eat the most unhealthy food you could imagine with you. But most of all is that they won't be able to get enough of all the parts that you were convinced were unlovable."
I decided to breathe again and use the newly obtained oxygen to grab myself more coffee.
