Surrender the Pink

"Don't you miss these enlivening conversations?"
"Actually," he said absently, "I do. I have to admit I do."

In fact, Rudy said almost everything absently, as though being himself didnt deserve his entire attention. Interaction was a sort of hobby he engaged in from time to time. He spoke softly but with authority, and he didnt have a wide range of expressions. His speech was muted. Smoky. Convalescent, almost, as if recovering from the ordeal of personality. As if carrying his weighty words from far away. As if the sound of his measured voice might wake him from his sleep of self. A kiss might turn the frog of his attention into a prince. Might...

She sighed. "I still have a romantic fantasy about you," she said in a low, even voice. "And I can't see you till it's over."

"It'll never be over entirely," he informed her." Besides, I have a fantasy about you." He cleared his dusty throat." And the worst thing we can do with a fantasy is feed it. The fantasy will only increase if we don't see each other. But if we dose ourselves with a little reality, we'll demystify the whole thing. We'll become more real to one another."

**
So she stood there, trying to look casual, trying not to feel so afraid. Oh who cares? So I am afraid, she thought. He's probably changed his shirt a couple of times himself.

Then there he was. Rudy didn't look as though he smiled much, but if he did, he did it somehow without smiling. A cool flame, he burned indifferently.

They looked at each other, then looked away. "Well," he offered. "It'll loosen up. It's the first couple of minutes." She watched the side of his face as he said this; it looked blank. She guessed that he was containing himself. It was as though he was hermetically sealed - water-resistant. Dinah - she was leaking all over the place. She couldnt contain herself. Rudy - that was all he did.