The story of a guy stumbling through life, trying not to fall on his face chasing a dream. His dream is named Katie- and sometimes he feels like he's running away...
“Oh?” She asked, her head whipping around in a flurry of blonde, her eyes boring into me like daggers. It was satisfying to see that I could still get that kind of reaction from her. The dishes clanked in the sink as she scrubbed them furiously. “The way you say that makes me wonder if I should have said that out loud.” “Why would you worry about that, Tom? You’re so wrapped up in yourself that I’m surprised you notice or care what I think!” “I’m the one wrapped up in myself? You’re the one leaving me for that asshat up in the hills!” I ventured around the corner into the kitchen, wary of sharp knives and such. “You're the one driving me away!" “Seriously? ‘He makes me feel like I’m important’,” I mimicked, instantly regretting my choice of words- which was kind of ironic, me being the writer and stuff. She rolled her eyes theatrically. She had beautiful eyes. “Whatever!” She exclaimed quietly, shaking her head. “I am so done! Go get drunk! Do something besides bother me! Go find something to write about- just leave me out of it!” Her eyes wandered away, suddenly leaving me lonely. I looked down at the floor. It was a beautiful carpet, one we had found at a garage sale back in the time before, somewhere down in Newport Beach. It struck me how much I’d miss it. “How can I? Everything I write is about you, Katie.” She threw the dish towel at me and stormed off, cursing me under her breath. “Fuck!” I whispered, staring at the ceiling.
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