Galinda and Calvin Part II (An Internet User Story)

  • Galinda turned her face away from the road toward Calvin.
  • “You don't listen, Cal. Do you know how to listen? I never said she wanted to move. I said she moved. Jesus.”
  • Calvin did not respond, but observed the pale yellow open fields passing beside the highway. He adjusted his shirt.
  • “Why did you wear that? I swear. It's what...the third day in a row you wear the same thing?”
  • Galinda ran her eyes over his long sleeves.
  • “And when are you getting a job?”
  • She shook her head in disgust.
  • “You don't cook. You have no friends.”
  • She waited for a response that did not come.
  • “You're allowed to criticize and you can't take criticism, Cal.”
  • He hated it when she called him “Cal.”
  • There ticked twenty minutes before another word emerged.
  • “You contradict yourself every five minutes and then tell everyone about their inconsistency. Do you even know that?”
  • Galinda silenced herself. She wanted to express her frustration, not destroy him.
  • “It's not the same shirt,” he said finally. “It's very similar to another one.”
  • He was unable to look at her, bounding anger slowly making his thoughts inexpressible. The Audi continued rolling along the wide-roaming highway before them. A great many miles promised to extend their journey dead-long, granite-hard.