Fiction XIX

“How are you so sure of everything?” she yells. Almost.

“Because I know you.”

“You do know you are being a pompous ass, right?”

“Whatever”

“Anyway”, she says to the person driving the car – ” take the next right ”

“Right?” He asks…

“No, I meant the other right  – I mean this hand – I mean left!” she says , confused as ever.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I am – I pass this way everyday”

“Everyday? EVERYday ?” mumbles the person driving the car, to himself.

“Don’t mind her. She’s always been this way.”

“I am not talking to you.”

“Oh nice! For how long?” he asks.

“Take the left after that circle type thing” she tells the driver.

“Circle? circle?! That’s a goddamn divider!” He laughs.

That does it. The tears start welling up.  Instinctively, as if he knows which moment the tears will start tumbling down, he holds her closer. And plants a sloppy kiss smack on her forehead.

She melts. Like always. And it starts all over again.

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