Enjoyable short read with a message.
He stood at the condiment bar and shouted into his phone.
What the fuck are you talking about? He screeched. Who the fuck told you you were smart? I’m the smart one in the family. I’m the fucking smart one. You’re not fucking smart. I’m the fucking smart one.
Caramelized honey latte, sir? I asked. I slid the cup toward him.
He looked up and gave me the friendliest smile I’d seen all day.
His voice was so jolly it made my teeth hurt. He took the drink from me and then turned back into his phone.
I’m the fucking smart one. Not you. Not the FUCK you.
I stared at him. He put some sugar in his already sweet drink.
No, he said. No, no, no. Fucking NO! FUCKING NO.
He walked away.
I kept staring.
And I wondered…
What could the other person have possibly said?
I’m assuming it was…
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