they've turned a recycling bin on its side and sit talking in the dark as i get home. i've been wanting to judge new love all evening, and feel glad that sound rises so i can eavesdrop from the balcony.
'i want to take you with me, but get your shit together.' he's wasted. there's silence. 'just get some fucking qualifications, veronica.'
she sobs.
'why are you crying? what's sad is that it had to come to this for me to tell you.'
'i'm crying because it's true.' she can hardly get the words out. he doesn't have to be such an arse about it. i feel like statler and waldorf, stage left in the muppets: gotta go to bed before i start heckling.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment