#44: Sinkhole

Every time I speak, and her eyes burrow deep inside me, questioning my very existence, and the shame of whatever inane thing I just said flushes over me like a tsunami, and I know that she'll never see me as her equal, that I'll never kiss her, I want the earth to fall away and swallow me whole.

She squints her eyes challenging the veracity of what I just uttered, and I want to take it back, scream that I am sorry, that I shouldn't have spoken, that I am not worthy to speak in her presence.

I can see the others watching her, waiting for her to react, like Ceaser at the fighting pits, deciding between life and death.

"Keagan," she finally says. I watch her lips form my name as if those lips brought me into existence. "Perhaps that is the most insightful comment uttered all term."

Her teeth shine as if the clouds parted to reveal the divine light.

"Thank you Ms Patrick," I say, too quiet for her to hear.