“No emotion,” she said. Was she criticizing what he had said or coaching herself? “No determination,” she said. Was she criticizing what he had done or relating the state of the case currently before the judge? “No way,” she said. Was she criticizing how he had made overtures toward her or lamenting the roadblock that prevented them from reaching the hospital? “No onions,” she said. Was she criticizing his lack of courage or ordering lunch? He had no retort for any of it. What could he say? “Emotion”? “Determination”? “Way”? “Onions”? He would come off as a mindless contrarian. He was mindful of that, at least. The fingers of the sun reached out for the leaves of the nearest trees, tousled them until they were golden and then some, shaming him into an even deeper silence.
©2021 Ben Greenman/Stupid Ideas
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