"Don't come back here" he said, arm outstretched and hand flexed like a traffic cop trying to stop a truck.
He was in my bedroom, dressing after a shower.
"How sweet," I thought. He's afraid if I go back there he will be overcome by desire and we'll be late for dinner.
I tried to go back three (3) more times.
"Stop" he said.
Then I smelled it.
I'm the only person in America that could turn a fart into a romantic fantasy.
Tune in tomorrow, won't you. I'm going to recite (write down) a Shakespearean sonnet every Friday. Are you still there?
You won't get bored cuz I'm going to explain them.
Don't roll your eyes at me. It will be fun.
Is it Friday yet?
I'm so excited...I'm watching the clock. Tick tick...what's taking so long?
The sonnets are all about love. And loss. Regret, adoration and tragedy. Things we experience yet never speak of.
In other words, life.