Quiet Company
He stood there just staring at me, cigarette hanging from
his lip.
“What?” I asked him, “What is it?”
He did not make a sound.
“Do you speak English?” I asked.
Still no sign that he understood or gave a damn what I was
saying.
I blew it off, “Forget it then, don’t talk to me. I could care less, just stop staring at me
like that.”
I took the cigarette out of his mouth and maneuvered the series
of ropes and pulleys so that his limp body was facing the other way.
“You’re in time out now, I hope you’re happy.”
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