One round too many with the Lunch Inquisition.
"Why do you care?" Turning around to face the interrogator, undoubtedly with many orders of magnitude more vehemence in your face and voice than you thought you were intending.
Her deep, masculine voice, trailing off as she turns back to her computer screen. "Just... trying... to... make... idle... conversation..."
For weeks after she'll neither look at nor speak to you.
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© 2002-2012 Mark Phillips.
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This writing is fiction. Please don't confuse it with reality.