Friday, May 16, 2014

They Must be Flaring All the Time

"You have to tell me when you're mad at me," she says. It's starting to rain harder, and I hold the umbrella over her as we hurry down 7th Avenue. "I was just trying to make you laugh."

"I was trying not to let it bother me," I say, "but when you tell me my nostrils flare when I'm being pretentious, I take it personally."

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