She couldn’t seem to break into their inner sanctum so she vowed that she would wow them by doing just what they did, only with so much style and precision, they would feel ashamed they hadn’t noticed her before and would act quickly to rectify the situation.


It vexed her that he had determined that the bed was the source of their disaccord and had set upon himself the task of researching beds to restore their rapport. She couldn’t place her finger on the exact moment that he abandoned his research; she might have thought that it was at this point or that juncture, but then again she couldn’t be entirely sure. She would never know if he himself was aware of the exact moment in which fixing their relationship was superseded by the overwhelming urge to relinquish it altogether.



He was a lanky guy with spectacles, a sensitive nerd like my dad.  Our friendship was undeniable.  When he traveled to Prague, he met the woman he would marry.  Life opened its arms for him.  When he returned, he told me that the city he had traveled to was my city, that I would adore its every nuance, that I would find myself reflected back in every twisted turn of its streets.  He laid his words at my feet like a package I would decline to open, afraid like the Pharaoh’s daughter to believe or to disbelieve divine prophecy, facing both options head on with silence. I never spoke to or saw my friend again.