She With Her Tales of Woe
She always comes at me with a tale of woe.
Worst scenario after worst scenario, always happens to her.
She expects me to listen without comment. I try to not disappoint.
I nod and make guttural sounds.
Becoming a nonverbal Neanderthal as I listen.
She adores this about me.
Her tale is embellished now.
She delights in it.
Worst things always happens to me she wails.
I nod.
Accidentally yawn.
She gives me a sharp look.
I apologize and she accepts.
My eyelashes flutter.
I try to look interested, but fail.
She says “I have to go,” and she does.
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