More rain had fallen and leaves had started to slowly gather on the sidewalks around town.
Doors slammed and the sound of sopping wet shoes was the first audible noise to meet either of their ears.
“Lower than the usual low? What’s it?”
“Nah”
“Give it.”
“Nah. Unimportant.”
“Give it.”
“Ah, fuck. It doesn’t matter.”
“What’s it? Give me one word.”
“Lifeless. Worthless. Useless. Done.”
“And that was four words.”
“Seriously. I think my soles are dead.”
BLONDE ON BLONDE 