first published in:

new wave vomit literary journal

 

 

 

 

 

“What?” she inquired.
“I said, you look nice today,” he answered.
“I heard what you said the first time. I just like hearing it.”

He was exhausted. Every time he complimented her, she asked what he had said. Only to tell him that she had heard the compliment the first time.

Of course, there was no woman standing before him, or no woman on the phone, or no woman on skype.

Just the brick façade above his fireplace.
A lonely man and his wall, the best kind of romance there is.