COFFEE?

what would you like to drink? he asked.
go away.
coffee?
go away.
what?
im thinking. i said.
he got out of the bed and dressed himself like a man going to a funeral. he conscientiously collected small things that were laying around like his glasses, and wrappers of things he had unwrapped the night before.
take your sweaty cheese. i said.
he giggled.
take your sweaty cheese, he repeated.
he picked up the cheese plate and stood frozen above me for a moment contemplating how he could stack the remaining dishes together with the cheese plate, in order to take all of the dishes upstairs at once.
...mund nid immer allis macha, he mumbled to himself in his mother tongue.
he left with just the cheese plate, shutting the door, and almost immediately i am attacked by vibrant visions, filling the rest of the room.

NEW WIFE

the more i think about him the more i realize he was my wife and not i his. this makes many things clearer for me, including what i want in a wife next time around, and the fact that i want one, everyone knew i didn't want a husband. that was clear from the beginning. whats confusing about gender is that people try to understand it visually. if everyone were artists they might understand... its all bullshit, the visual. its all smoke and mirrors. i know that. i create two-dimensional worlds everyday that people believe in and ask me questions about, that people use as scape goats, or use to unleash their inner motivation. then they motivate themselves and thank me. which is great-- depending on what the thank-you is like. personally i like soft, warm, intimate, modest thank-yous, whispered on my pillow at night with silent smiles that shine in the darkness.
which is why i need a new wife.