Maybe Tomorrow Will Be Better

“Oh God, just shut the fuck up.  Why are you even speaking?”

Evan hurls his words across the room like they’re china plates.

“But – ”

“Do you think I give a fuck what your opinion is on my work?  What the hell do you think you know?  Honestly Niah, it’s like you think you have some talent for something other than sex.”

This stings.

“I just – ”

“Well just don’t.”

“Evan!”  This time he’s annoyed.  The book in Evan’s hands is suddenly slammed on the table.

“Really?  You want to have an argument now?  Right now?  Just once, in you’re fucking worthless life, could you shut your mouth?  Daddy’s got real, big-boy shit to deal with now, so why don’t you just run along and play quietly.  Or better yet, do the fucking dishes.  I’ve had enough of this mess.”

Evan goes back to his book, and Niah feels his entire being slump, just a little.  He opens his mouth in an attempt to mutter a desperate I’m not worthless.  Instead he finds himself in front of the sink.

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~ by followingsherlockholmes on October 23, 2012.

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