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.