Cynictext

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“You know, the thing about me is…”

She hated that phrase, wanted, needed to pull it out of her acquaintances mouth, fast, like a string from an over played cassette, scrunch it up and step on it, pick it up again and shred it, burn the darn strips of nonsense to ash and let it blow into the accommodating wind, swept away like it had never been brought forth.

She just couldn’t stand it, that syntax of words and their doubtful sound.

She gazed on. She had become an expert at holding back the bad taste of vex in her throat, so much so she looked bemused.

A chameleon in the situation to throw off the tide of an arising tongue of sarcasm “Yes tell me, what is…. the thing about you?” – smirk!

But, she held her silence. The words she hated continued as follows “Im a very patient guy, I won’t push you to do anything you don’t want to” smile.

She smiled back and swept air into her chest. This shit again.

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