The Non Listener
She never pauses for a breath. I listen and listen and listen.
But at one point I feel strongly that it is my turn to talk.
So, I throw in a story.
She interrupts me several times, then she returns to her last thought.
I wait but this time not as patiently.
There is a break.
I dash in, telling her something I felt was humorous about myself.
That’s nothing, she says, topping my story.
This happens eight times in a row.
Me waiting.
Me throwing in something fast.
Her topping it.
I finally lie and say someone is at the door waiting to have their teeth brushed.
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