Article: 178999 of talk.bizarre
From: josh@pogo.cqs.washington.edu (doc)
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
Subject: Epiphany in the Canterbury
Date: 1 Dec 1994 23:55:00 GMT
Organization: University of Washington, Seattle
Lines: 55
Message-ID: <3blnok$l2@news.u.washington.edu>
Status: O

He looked up from his beer and saw her, across the room, talking on
the pay phone.

"My God," he said, unaware that he had spoken aloud. It was loud in
the bar, and no one could hear anyone, really. One gets used to it;
one learns, without noticing, to read lips. Don't think you can? You'd
be surprised.

He was transfixed. My God, he said again, this time to himself. I am
in love.

I know, honey, she said.

No, he thought, be meaner than that. Fight. Hurt. Drive him away.

No, she said, and he smiled, and only then saw through the haze of
tobacco smoke the tears streaking down her face.

Bastard, he thought.

"Bastard!", he said, and no one noticed.

I know, she said, while he glowered on his stool.

Yes. Yes. Long pause, and her feet worked the floor nervously, as if
she were doing some mysterious little dance, or like she might run
away.

Run away, he urged silently. Run! Run to me!

All right, she said. In an hour or so. Yes, I do. I do love you,
honey.

The words struck him like bullets. You DON'T, he told her, you don't
love him, you just fear NOT loving him. He's no good for you! getting
desperate as she hung up and stumbled toward the door. Stay here! Stay
where it's safe!

"Yo, buddy, maybe you've had a little too much, huh?"

He whirled around to see the bartender looking at him. "What?"

"You were shouting," the bartender said, shrugging, and walked away
with a pair of empty beer bottles clinking in one hand.

"I wasn't!", he blustered, and a gust of cold outside air swept in as
the door slammed shut, and she was gone.

"I wasn't.", he explained, but no one noticed.

-- 
         Josh Hayes	       josh@cqs.washington.edu
Disc Golf Page: http://www.cqs.washington.edu/~josh/discgolf.html
      Now, unlock your wigs, let the air out of your shoes, 
       and prepare for a period of simulated exhiliration