I abhor those certain moments of silence. Because silence speaks. A polite disagreement. Too afraid or too apathetic to reply. That moment of silence demanding a change of subject.
I abhor the faint and polite chuckle reminding us that times have changed. We’ve returned to acquaintances–with an even more aggressive politeness.
I abhor the speedy escape away from my presence. Why were you here at all? Just as a reminder of the past, haunting me.
Oh, that hesitant voice, thinking, “how do I let her go?” Just waiting and praying for the obvious signs to be seen. Waiting for the politeness to circle around.
Finally, “I ought to let you go.” Thank my lucky stars. Polite goodbyes.
©Ana P. Rose & Anaprose 2017.