Stranded in bed, the inevitability of brunch before us. Where shall we go, she says. Savory and sweet and extra coffee, a paralyzingly choice of insides and toppings. I say I'm not hungry but my stomach betrays me. She smiles at the rumbling. I'll say that, she smiles when I rumble.
My knees hurt, more than usual. Is this what happens when you're sedentary? Am I already beginning to atrophy? I am in danger of not using the best parts of myself, the ones you'll never see. A meal is not so long.
We eat and I pay. She grabs some mints and stuffs them in my pocket. The sun hits her hair through the window just right. Black never looked so bright.
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