| I took the spoonful of Honey Nut Cheerios and brought it to my mouth. My mouth opened, the spoon went inside, and emptied itself there. The spoon fell, by the aid of my hand, to the bowl. She kept looking at me from across the table with her big, mournful eyes. They were saucers full of obsidian in the redness of a volcano. I avoided her gaze and concentrated on my Cheerios. They were round and golden, like little beady eyes.
A far-away voice intoned, “I just feel like we’re drifting.” What was she talking about? We’re sitting here, at dawn next to the teapot. We’re as close as we’ve ever been. Words are unnecessary. I am here. This should be enough.
Not for her. She wants more emotions to share. Me and my Cheerios don’t need this. I take them to another room and leave her to herself. Soft sniffing is just barely audible. I’ve got to get farther away…
Cavern in the storm.