after
art we sat in the car outside emily’s house for about twenty minutes trying to
decide which direction the night should take us. bouts of silence broken with discussion,
followed by whispers, then building to crescendo. imagine the conversation as the spoken word
equivalent of “breakers” by local natives.
it was awkward yet perfect, the stuff of larry david situational
comedies. i’m not a sadist so i wouldn’t
want to drag out decisions like that all the time but when the perfect storm of
factors causes a simple choice to be much more difficult than it ought to be it’s
hard not to enjoy it from ten thousand feet.
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