fictitious tender_square "the characters aren't us," he offered as disclaimer. my heart was unprepared anyway. the scenario was lifted from real life, a couple in the midst of divorce, and the conditions of their distance were true too. the woman was some hippie type who knew about chakras and did edibles as a way to avoid her feelings. the guy was a bit pudgy and interested in losing weight through restriction so as to be rendered fuckable again. he was taken with a red-headed tennis player he'd see at the court. he heard me sniffling from upstairs and felt like a shit for asking me to read it. i don't even know what i was crying about anyway. maybe i didn't like the change of voice in this short story from the protagonist i knew from his novel; that character had life, and even though he was cynical he still believed in something deeper than the surface. this couple were sarcastic and ironic and fumbling badly; why was that a story line? why did so many people in my life behave in this manner as if this particular affliction actually accomplished anything? 230226 what's it to you? who go blather from