She was never very good at the simpler tasks. Give her Shakespeare, it would be analyzed in minutes. A gourmet recipe could be cooked to perfection the first time around. The woman could drive along the Outer Banks smack-dab in the middle of a nor'easter without hydroplaning once.
But the easy things? Like clearing her throat to make her presence known. Pulling back on the doorknob to close it again. Stepping out the doorway, walking the 23 steps to her blue Miata, and leaving -- for good this time. Those were efforts with which she struggled.
It wasn't difficult to identify the long-haired brunette, with her condescending eyes and well-timed moans. No surprise there.
The only surprising aspect of the entire ordeal was a passionate and faithful relationship being torn apart because he was allowing it to be. But...for what?
It wasn't sex -- he was already getting that.
Can't have been love -- he didn't even like her that much.
And God knows it wasn't intellectual conversation. The bitch had the IQ of George Bush, yet often knew just the right thing to say.
So she stood there. Watching. Attempting to establish what exactly was so terrible about her that would drive him into the arms of such a worthless creature.
Bet he doesn't know either.
[[photo here]]
"The woman could drive along the Outer Banks smack-dab in the middle of a nor'easter without hydroplaning once."
ReplyDelete"And God knows it wasn't intellectual conversation. the bitch had the IQ of George Bush, yet often knew just the right thing to say"
Best lines in my opinion. This post is meh...but still, I like the way you wrote it.
As in the subject is meh, or the writing is meh?
ReplyDeleteThe subject is meh, duh. I said I like the way you wrote it. I wouldn't say that if the writing was meh
ReplyDelete