When will you Believe?
The sun streams into my bedroom. We lay entwined, spent, basking in the aftermath of release. Outside, a bus churns by on 14th Street. The scent of curry
floats up from the Indian restaurant. My stomach growls.
You say: It’s a trust thing. I say: When will you believe? You say: What if I never do? I say: When there’s a will, there’s a way. You say: I’ve been hurt before. I say: Who the hell hasn’t been? You say: I don’t know if I can do this. I say: But you are, you already are. You say: I have my own life to consider. I say: Oh yeah, thanks for reminding me.]]>
Are you trying to write a play?
beautiful, haunting, real….
It’s like a guessing game…for me. Let me see…
Yes, been on both sides of this one, like the yin-yang of every couplehood. And I enjoy the subtleties of the opening.
Love this! You have such a knack for dialogue. Have you ever considered writing plays? (Ha! I crack myself up…)
It could be that you are writing the next piece of creative writing for tomorrow’s posting. There is a large readership who are eager to read it.
I really like the clean, direct back and forth in this one. Hope you’ll consider keeping going with it.
This has lots of potential and like Pam, I hope you continue on with this dialogue.