Red Spotting Before Period Is Due

Raz tears

Well, it whining. I restrain myself not to explode, she said me fait chier et je quitte la pièce. C’est facile d’imaginer ses joues mouillées et sa bouche qui tremble. Je connais par cœur aussi la couleur de ses yeux quand elle pleure ; un bleu qui se délave et pâlit au point de miroiter comme des yeux de poupée triste. Je ne suis pas insensible, ni moins compatissant que la moyenne. C’est simplement que j’ai dépassé depuis longtemps mon seuil de tolérance pour ses larmes, et pour pas mal d’autres choses d’ailleurs .

Dans la cuisine, je fais couler de l’eau un moment sur mes doigts et me remplis un verre que je vide d’un trait sans avoir soif. La vaisselle de la veille attend je ne sais quoi dans l’évier and I start to wash: two plates, two glasses, some covered, that I file a cockroach not possible. Something has burnt to the bottom of the pan and I use the green side of the sponge without changing anything. It would have to soak yesterday evening, but that she did not think so. I tell myself that I could think about it too, so I run hot water in to make my job easier later. I watch the red and green parrots wallpaper in wiping my hands. During our first visit, it made us laugh and we had promised to paint quickly. But nothing happened and now the bugs Motley could not care much for my mouth.

I hear him sniff and fly next door. Lacrimal waterfalls are the outcome of most of our discussions. God knows that I coat the slightest understanding of sweetness of my words, the most innocuous of my sentences. But inevitably, the words wade and are locked into tears salty. I sometimes wonder if she has not a kind of small sea in her, flowing through his eyes. But I did not tell him, of course.

When I saw the schedule close to his pillow, I realized it was the wrong start. Six months she had stopped taking the pill six months disappointed. She agreed to hide the calendar in his books when I told him the remark, but I hear him giggle like an idiot every time I'm in it. It notes with a cross all our sessions in bed and I suspect the other of any mixing or clear all. My convictions are the trunk since we sleep with that damn calendar.
Sometimes I wonder if my poor sperm drown before reaching the goal saw the whole fleet it seems into it. Sometimes I want to fill a jar for my sperm is injected it when she wants. Sometimes I wonder if I want to have a kid with a woman liquid. Sometimes I have lots of ideas in the con that I keep to myself.

When I returned to the room she is in a ball on the sofa, his head bent on his knees. His blond hair still moves me. She has a hair of happy childhood, a mixture of honey, straw, sun, buttercup, a matter of watered silk.

I try to collect letters in my head to get in touch with her, but all that comes to my idea is that I should bring the Kleenex box.