"How was your day?" She wanted to know and put a smile upon her face.
"My day? Which day? This day?" He moaned.
"Yeah, that one here. How was it? Any good?"
"Good, good", he explained, "just an ordinary day. Not better or worse than any other. But why the hell do you want to know? Why does everybody always care how anyone’s day is?"
"Well", she tried to explain, "it’s just some kind of politeness, so don’t worry."
"Politeness? Don’t worry? So you’re not really interested in knowing it? Hypocracy! This is really cruel. If you asked me how my day was I’d at least expect you to care. I’d expect you to be interested in what I feel, at least you could try to pretend instead of talking about politeness. I know what politeness is, so don’t worry, and I know that YOU are the one who is not polite. Why do you just bother me? I didn’t ask you to ask me, but you are doing it, anyway. Tell you what, this word also starts with a P, but it’s spelled persistence, not politeness."
"Hum..." she gasped after a while... "I suspect your day wasn’t all that good, was it?"
Toutes les droites appartiennent à son auteur Il a été publié sur e-Stories.org par la demande de Lars Schmitt.
Publié sur e-Stories.org sur 09.02.2012.
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