Life erasing, babes chastising?
No.
Sullenly, I crumpled up the paper and threw it at the waste receptacle. This was an awful way to start three hours of the so-called "relaxed song-writing time". Sitting in Caribou, nothing left to write except awful words that wouldn't fit anywhere. I realized I'd missed the rubbish box. "Have to get up, too." This phrase, muttered under my breath and followed with a sigh, was quite supposed to be a private statement.
"No, I'll get it."
"I'm sorry?"
She stood, picked up the offending article, and placed it deftly inside the bin. I realized I'd used three different words to describe a trash can. Why...? For both actions.
"Em, thank you."
Smiles are the funniest things. They can brighten your day, they can let you know that you no longer have to sit up straight since you won't be hired anyway, they can inspire you, they can make you walk into poles. This one... was everything except one. Guess.
"I'm sorry, I guess you didn't notice me staring at you. I was sitting next to you and I couldn't help but notice... Stephen?" Her hands twisted together nervously. My mind was doing the same thing, but more out of confusion.
"What? I, I mean, yes. You are...?"
"Oh you know me! You don't... I mean you don't remember, but you do! Really. You know me. Mmmm."
Mmmm. That was familiar. I'd picked up the habit from her.
"Julie?"
This was the walk-into-poles one.
"Yes."
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