He stared at the TV

She wore a new dress

He stared at the TV

Nothing was said

She tried a different recipe

He mumbled when asked

“It

was

alright

I guess”

Then

“Hey wait a minute”

A posed question lingered

She waited on bated breath

was this

conversation?

No

it was

“Where’s the remote?”

Had she moved it again

Why did she keep moving it

That sort of thing

She answered in her head

Where no one heard what she said

though it didn’t matter these days

out loud

silent

all

the

same

dead

line

Well it is something to talk about

She thought

His blind hand searched

In the air

Clenched around the remote

when she placed it there

And didn’t even bother with a thank you

So

She

Held it a second longer then needed

So

He

had to look into her eyes

and said

With some surprise

“Did you get a haircut?”

“Last week” her answer was wry

dry

brittle

like a dried out leaf

worn husk

A shell of who she once was

Perhaps

she might

blow away in the wind

Not that anyone would notice

make a fuss

if she went missing

so

She went to bed

Nothing more was said

For there was really nothing to say

And all the feelings went away

When she picked up her book

And slipped into the page

My offering for our Writers Group this morning where the topic is “They had nothing to say to eachother.” So sad when this happens in relationships. I’m very grateful to have one that is still rich and full of affection, humour and communication.

The header picture is a little bit of Melbournes graffiti artistry which pops up in unexpected laneways everywhere.