The Sharp Divide Between

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic
A conversation between two, each with a terrible secret, neither of which can figure out how to tell the other. But as the conversation degrades, the question no longer becomes what is the secret, but how long can the silence last.

Submitted: October 04, 2012

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Submitted: October 04, 2012

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They both tried their best to hide it from each other, though in their hearts they both new that you could only dodge the questions for so long. It had been nearly five full minutes and neither of them had made of move or said a word, hoping that the other one would crack first. As it so happened, they ended up cracking at the same time.

“I need to...” they both said suddenly. The sharpness of the statements and the unity of the expression left both of them dumbfounded for several moments. When one of themdid speak, the words they spoke felt foreign on their lips.

“What is on your mind,” he asked carefully. Seemed a strange question to ask, considering the weight that existed inside of him. Who was he really to ask such a thing of his friend, when such a heavy burden rested inside of him. He wanted desperately to tell him, to tell him the truth, try to make amends, but the expression on his friends face kept from admitting to anything. There was hurt behind those eyes, and he suspected not all of it was because of him.

“Nu...nothing,” his friend stuttered. The friend looked at the man with wide eyes, cursing under his breath if his mouth would move. He knew he should have spoken with more confidence. Now he would give everything away. He looked at the mans face and noticed just how tired it was. He wanted more than anything to just go away, giving himself a reprieve from all of the anxiety. He knew is wouldn't be that easy though, since the restlessness would just follow him where ever he would go.

The man sighed. He was exhausted, and the look on his friends face just made telling him all that much harder. He still cared for him, like a brother or even a twin, even after all that had been done. He knew his actions wouldn't show this, and he wanted so badly not to say anything. That wouldn't work though. He had to say something.

“Listen we aren't getting anywhere by not talking, so tell me what is on your mind and lets get it over with.”

The friend spoke in discomfort. “I just don't know what to say.”

“Well...why the hell are you even talking to me!”

The friend was silent.

“Well?”

“I'm sorry...”

“Your sorry. Dammit, you are always apologizing. All I want from you is the truth!” Again with the mixed words. How could he say such things, and how long could the silence, both of their silence, hold out. He couldn't tell, but he knew, he knew the look in his friends eyes. He would break first. He was sure of it.

“I...” he began to say. Then he stopped suddenly as a noise arose from the parlor. The friend motioned with his eyes to the front door, which had suddenly begun to open. The man took the hint, and let the conversation die.

“Some other time,” they promised to themselves. They turned away a mirror.

The woman set down a set of brown paper bags and stepped into the room, he fiery hair swept playfully to the side.

“Hello dear,” she said sweetly.

“Welcome home sweetie” they said in unison.


© Copyright 2020 hirojinbrodie. All rights reserved.

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