The Ultimatum
I am not one for issuing ultimatums, neither do I expect to have them thrust upon me.
I am not one for issuing ultimatums, neither do I expect to have them thrust upon me.
When I was a teenager, it wasn’t my parents that rolled their eyes at my outfits or the ever growing number of piercings. Neither one made threats of ultimate disappointment about the prospect of tattoos. It was my brother.
He didn’t know what this was about, but it wasn’t about buying a house.
So peaceful at this point. Always her favourite time. Just after. When she seemed intact, in focus and happy.
“What if our parents had known they were insane?” Morgan asks.
“What if they did?” Olivia replies.
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“Look, Louise, it’s…it’s not you…it’s me,” he stammered. “Well, of course it’s not me, I’m fucking amazing!” she replied, angrily. “Why would it be me? You’re the one who wants to end it, so it’s obviously you,” she took a long drag on her cigarette.