Time: 10 minutes
Prompt: Somebody that I used to know
Source: Gotye (title and lyric of song running through my head this morning)
"Somebody that I used to know," was all she said when I asked her who had called. She closed her phone, returned to her seat at the table and picked up her fork. She did not use it though. Instead she set it down again and stared at the plate of spaghetti and steamed broccoli.
"Is that all you want to tell me?" I asked. She took a sip of wine, set down the glass for a moment, then picked it up again and drained it in three quick gulps.
"Wow. Whatever it is, I'm sure drinking will help. Ex-boyfriend stalking you?" I smiled, hoping to lighten the mood or at least to get some sort of response. It didn't work. She just kept looking down at her plate. "Would you please talk to me?" I got up, walked around behind her and started to massage her shoulders. They tensed up in response. "What's going on?"
"I'm sorry," she said at last. "I'm so, so sorry. You -- you have to go. Now." She stood up, shrugging off my hands, and went to the closet. She handed me my coat, picked up my keys from table in the hall, and opened the front door. "Here," she said, thrusting the keys at me. "I like you, Abe. I really do. But I can't see you again. Ever. I'm sorry."
She shut the door behind me and I heard the bolt slide in the lock. I left. There seemed to be nothing else to do. I suppose I could have argued, demanded to know what was happening, refused to leave without getting an explanation. But that would not have been like me. I'd never been one to argue. I take what's handed to me.
She had noticed me. She had struck up the conversation. She had suggested we have coffee, lunch. She had shown me her favorite view of downtown from Kerry Park. She had called me on the phone. She had invited me over for dinner. And now, just like that, she had ejected me from her life.
(about my timed writing exercises)
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