Rediscover Communication

“…and so that’s how I managed to convince him.”

He finished the story triumphantly as though he had earned points for style and sliding back in his chair, folded his fingers together and waited in earnest for praise. His stories always smelled of desperation. It was the longing for acceptance that attached to everything he did.

“That’s the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard,” she lied, her voice spiked with regretful anger.

Anything to get him to shut up, to hurt him, to make him wince. The story was alright, she would later think to herself, but god damn, why does he have to drone on like that? She rolled her eyes and shot them at the ceiling, fingering the chair arm and pretending she wasn’t bored.