Blabber (A Flash Fiction)

If we go out on a date, talk to me about anything. Talk about the dead cat on your lawn, the broken window of your bedroom, the hate you have whenever it is winter, the rants you got about the movies I like, the colors of our clothing, the taste of the food, the anger of the night, the misunderstanding your family has, or, if ever, the crave you have to take me out for the second time.

Even ask me anything. How my day went, why I love to sleep during rainy seasons, why I am very opinionated, how I cut myself while cooking my dinner, why I breathe writing, or what secrets do I keep.

Just keep talking—keep blabbering because I fear silence. Whenever it is around, I feel like something is wrong and I begin to doubt my ability to connect.


Thank you for reading this story. If you want to talk about random things with me, do not hesitate to reach me through my “Contact” page. All the best love, my dear.

let me hold your words before you leave;

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