This Strange Relationship

I once had a love, or should I say she once had me...

"I've asked you not to do that a thousand times."

No reply. There seldom was. There have been times I think this is a one-way relationship. But sometimes, sometimes, when I'm in the deepest of my days and feeling like I want the floor to just swallow me up...there she is. And she is soft and loving, cuddling me close, warming my heart, suggesting a dinner for two, just the two of us...just the two of us.

"You know, you're being rude. Very rude.."

Again, nothing. Nothing but a casual glance away. She sauntered to the window, looking out into our vast garden, thinking her inscrutable thoughts behind an unreadable expression.

"Hello? Are you even listening? I've asked you over and over to leave the things on my desk alone. I've been working on that play for three months, now the ink is all smudged and half the pages are scattered all over the floor!"

She looked down for moment, looked at me over her shoulder with a cool, indifferent humor, and returned to studying the lawn and shrubs and squirrels.

I closed the curtain, blocking her view. "I'm very upset! Ugh! I am certain you don't understand, but—ARGH!"

She turned and walked into the living room, sitting primly on the couch, looking at me. Deigning to look at me. I looked at her smug expression and could only shake my head. Why do I even try?

"Fine. Forget about it. I'll...I'll just lock up all the stuff on my desk so you can't carelessly ruin me life's work."

She looked at me with her suspiciously mischievous smirk and, like a queen imperiously drawing the sash of her cloak in victorious mastery, curled her tail around her with mocking languor and went to sleep.

Why do I even try?


NOTES: ▼

Word Count: 300
Submitted for "Daily Flash Fiction Challenge" 
Prompt: Use the phrase "You're being rude."