I am telling myself that I am not an idiot when Frank comes over. If I could find my keys I would already be gone.
Frank though, he just walks in and heads directly to test the fridge, feeling at home.
I think somehow it must be my fault he feels that way.
At some point, I'll have to correct that, but for now the crevices of the couch look like they might be a good hiding place.
I eye Frank wondering if he might be strong enough to turn it over and shake--
I'm not about to put my hand down there.
“Why is the pint of milk in your microwave?” Frank asks looking at me like I might have lost my mind.
I try to think if I had, in truth, misplaced it. Maybe left it on the porch?
The birds would no doubt be pecking at it, taking little nibbles of my precious thoughts. I made a mental note to check there later, and gave Frank one of those looks that said he was a moron for even asking why.
“Because my cup of coffee is in the refrigerator,” I said mater of factly.
He went back over to the fridge to check.
I picked my coffee up from the table and had a sip.
He caught me as he opened the door, then glanced down, pissed that he fell for it.
Then his eyes got wide and bright.
“Ahhh, that would explain at least why your keys are in the trash can,” Frank quipped.
Smartass, I thought.
He was holding a dry bowl of “Healty Grain Flakes” in one hand and the warm milk loosely in the other.
He stared back into the fridge hoping to will some milk into existance. Realy, he looked lost.
I walked over and settled into the comfy couch, knowing Frank would be here for a while. And besides, Dr. Phil was on.
“My sister is allergic to milk,” I announce over the growing racket from the weed-eater outside. “She likes to eat it with water.”
I hear the faucet turn on. I turn up the tv and twist my head towards the window so he can’t see me giggle.
I notice how the flying grass almost makes the shirtless boy look magical on the evening lawn. A rip out of time.
I smile wider.
"It's a good day to weed-eat," I say.
"Gross," Frank says and looks up at me disgusted and crunching.
I raise my eyebrows in mock astonishment.
I probably should have told him to put some pepper on it, too.
Frank though, he just walks in and heads directly to test the fridge, feeling at home.
I think somehow it must be my fault he feels that way.
At some point, I'll have to correct that, but for now the crevices of the couch look like they might be a good hiding place.
I eye Frank wondering if he might be strong enough to turn it over and shake--
I'm not about to put my hand down there.
“Why is the pint of milk in your microwave?” Frank asks looking at me like I might have lost my mind.
I try to think if I had, in truth, misplaced it. Maybe left it on the porch?
The birds would no doubt be pecking at it, taking little nibbles of my precious thoughts. I made a mental note to check there later, and gave Frank one of those looks that said he was a moron for even asking why.
“Because my cup of coffee is in the refrigerator,” I said mater of factly.
He went back over to the fridge to check.
I picked my coffee up from the table and had a sip.
He caught me as he opened the door, then glanced down, pissed that he fell for it.
Then his eyes got wide and bright.
“Ahhh, that would explain at least why your keys are in the trash can,” Frank quipped.
Smartass, I thought.
He was holding a dry bowl of “Healty Grain Flakes” in one hand and the warm milk loosely in the other.
He stared back into the fridge hoping to will some milk into existance. Realy, he looked lost.
I walked over and settled into the comfy couch, knowing Frank would be here for a while. And besides, Dr. Phil was on.
“My sister is allergic to milk,” I announce over the growing racket from the weed-eater outside. “She likes to eat it with water.”
I hear the faucet turn on. I turn up the tv and twist my head towards the window so he can’t see me giggle.
I notice how the flying grass almost makes the shirtless boy look magical on the evening lawn. A rip out of time.
I smile wider.
"It's a good day to weed-eat," I say.
"Gross," Frank says and looks up at me disgusted and crunching.
I raise my eyebrows in mock astonishment.
I probably should have told him to put some pepper on it, too.
Comments
Just to be mischievous i think.
;)
Q
Nice to see you again.
Q