Crossroads


One dance was all it took, gesture and then a look,
Beckoning me ‘cross the badly lit room.
Can’t quite recall the song, but we both sang along,
And when it ended, it ended too soon
. –The Evangenitals, Sadie Hawkins


“I love it when a metaphor comes to life.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we’re standing at a crossroads. Right? I mean, here we are, metaphorically speaking – oh, and literally speaking – standing in the spot where one must decide.”

“Is that a metaphor? Or is it a simile?”

“Get caught up in the details much? Or are you practicing avoidance?”

“I don’t need to practice avoidance. I’m already a pro.”

“Not one of your more appealing qualities.”

“No?”

“I thought you’d want to know.”

“And anyway, it matters. It’s our language. People should know how to use it.”

“We muddle through, we poor feeble masses.”

“Confusing similes for metaphors and ‘your’ for ‘you’re.'”

“I know the difference between ‘your’ and ‘you’re.'”

“I know you do. I remember when you learned it and how proud I was – ouch! don’t do that – what was I saying?”

“Lies. Absolute lies and utter rubbish.”

“Oh yes. I baked you a cake, remember? There was cake, and laughter and obscene balloon animals.”

“You sir, are a big fat liar.”

“I’m not fat.”

“Tell me you love me.”

“What?”

“Tell me you adore me.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because it’s true. Say it. Because I want you to. Because, like language, it matters.”

The following two tabs change content below.

Cynthia Lugo

Latest posts by Cynthia Lugo (see all)

There are 8 comments

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

  
Please enter an e-mail address