Fruitless Love :: Dialogue Essays

Fruitless LoveI waited for give chase to head out for his three oclock before I packed up my things and left the murderice. I didnt have to. Bob isnt my boss, hes just the guy who sits in the next cubicle. And its not like he would have said anything, or even thought anything. It was just one of those days when I matt-up like leaving without anybody noticing. I smoked a whole keister liberty chiting from the office to the shuttle stop two blocks away. I walk slowly now, even when I feel like Im rushing. The shuttle was park at the stop when I got there. The driver had run inside the McDonalds to design the bathroom. I sat down on one of those sideways pose near the front and I smiled at the young woman school term across from me. We sat there awkwardly facing each other(a) for several minutes while the bus driver did his thing in the McDonalds. I had a newspaper in my briefcase. It was a quarter to foursome when I got home and for a good five-some minutes I stood at the dini ng room table trying to decide what to do next. Laura would be home in an hour or so. Thats why I took off early. To have an hour or so. But I wasnt sure what to do with it. I took a beer from the fridge and started a bath. I was still in a towel, shaving, when Laura came home. I heard her call my name down the hallway. She was winded. I heard packages. Im in here, I said. My voice sounded funny, high. I drew the shave up toward my chin. Are we late? she asked. I had to stop at the supermarket first. I got us a cake to bring. Renee said not to bring anything. She walked into the bedroom, struggle to undo her top. Are we late? I didnt even see what succession it is. What kind of cake? I asked. Did she call? I left a message on her machine. I said we might be late. Were fine, I said. I rinsed my face and leaned in close to the mirror to see if Id miss anything. I couldnt remember if Id brushed my teeth. Laura walked up behind me. She reached around and boney one of my nipples. He llo, you, she said.