we’re not free, you know, you spoke lazily, allowing the words to drift around you like smoke before dissolving into the atmosphere, absorbed. i allowed myself to drift through the words, wandering through the air. perhaps if i run my fingers through the air i’d catch them, examine them – set them free again.
i angled my head to look at you, still now, trying not to smile. i loved when you went into these moods, dreamy and philosophical – trying to distill our world into one handful that you can order and understand.
we’re shackled by the inevitable.
what, taxes? i quipped.
no, death, you reminded me, and i closed my eyes against the word. recalled a time not so long ago; bit my tongue against laughing; the idea now is so long forgotten to me.
oh. that. – yes, that.
(later that evening i wiped the blood from my lip)