microfiction · wording

you can read me anything

Wed, 14 Apr 2010 10:54:00 +0000

He was sure he hadn’t loved her the first time. No…the first time had been curiosity – the second, confirmation. The third, political, the fourth and fifth routine. Before long their trysts were almost dull, but by then he’d gotten comfortable. When he finally said he didn’t love her, it felt like a lie. It was that, more than the blow, that laid him flat.