An Unspoken Conversation
I sat next to him on the pew, my hand on the lump on my forehead and a pout on my lips.
He smiled, and taking the pen, he scribbled something on the program.
“Your mine.”
I removed the pen from his fingers and added the apostrophe and “e.”
He shook his head.
I can’t help it.
*SOMEONE pointed out that without a little background, it looks like he hit me in the head and claimed me as a possession. ANYONE who knows me, knows I would not tolerate that type of behavior; the knot I spoke of was self-inflicted by my own clumsiness. Again, those who know me would just assume that; I am an unspeakable klutz. That’s what made it funny.
Guess you just had to be there.