Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Communication

A thud sounds from upstairs. I would like to imagine it is people moving furniture, one person stepping incorrectly and dropping his end, but I know differently. A third thud, crackling this time, like a chair over a washboard. A series of loud swearing echoes after. A bang as the door slams. A bang as the apartment door exit slams.

I look at Orion who's ears are tucked back, listening. What are those noises? I imagine him asking, expectantly looking at me.

"Orion, we won't fight like that," I say. My internal body seems to cave inward as the shouting continues. My karma affected.
"If you have a problem with me Orion, you should, well," I think about how he can articulate it, "Well just ignore me."

"I may yell at you, but I will never hurt you. At least not on purpose." I pause. "And I won't throw furniture at you. But I will squirt you if you keep trying to eat my feet."

It is comforting this building of a permanent relationship.

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