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I Wish You Weren't Here

When I said "I wish you were here" it was just a thing you say on a postcard. I didn't expect you to up sticks and move here. That wouldn't have been so bad but for six months now you've been living off me and eating everything that doesn't move (although I haven't seen that cat in a while...). You don't appear to have any intention of moving on. Or for that matter of moving, period. You do realise there is a vertical? You might try assuming it once in a while. But then, you are 100 percent impervious to hints, criticism or threats of violence. So I'm off. I'm leaving you to it. Don't offer to make me a coffee before I go - I'm taking it with me. Along with all the mugs. Except you, obviously. That beer in the fridge? Knock yourself out. Literally, for all I care. This time I won't be sending you a postcard. The postal service will have to keep itself afloat without my financial aid. So don't be alarmed when you don't hear from me - "that's the plan," to paraphrase you every time I ask if you're going to get a job. This time, I actually do wish you were here: exactly where you are right now, which will be as far away from me as it's possible for me to get. (Hey, do the Germans have a word for the opposite of "Auf wiedersehen"?)

Story by:

Chris Bell

submitted at 2:20pm

4 June 2012

Chris Bell's web:

www.wordsshiftminds.co.nz