1 am, on a planet far . . far away . . .
She answered the phone with a fifth of something deliberate throwing words against her receiver. She sounded even more beautiful with the carry over of good tidings cleaving at her nouns and setting fire to ever more powerful verbs.
“Listen, I’m sorry.” She said. “I didn’t mean to kiss you. I don’t know what got into me.”
“I don’t know, T. Felt like you meant it from where I was standing.”
“That’s not it . . I just . . . you know, I’m still a mess with the breakup and everything and you really don’t need this. It’s not like I have white picket fences to offer you.”
“I sold my white picket fence, and I included the house in that deal. I’m an apartment dweller now. So what? We’ll try it for a while . . what do we have to lose?”
“What’s a while?”
“It’s a convenient length of time,”
“Well . . . yanno, there’s always something to lose.”
“When it’s worth trying, there always is.”
“This could be a really bad idea . . .”
“You say it like that’s a bad thing,”
The only thing he could hear across the line, was her smile.