Today's writing

“Oh, hell no.” Adam doesn’t even have his glasses on and we’re already bickering. I picture myself before his bleary eyes, an angry smear.

“It’s not like it’s costing me anything. Canceling is free.”

“I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about you being a pussy.”

There are a few words that make me lose my shit. There’s pretentious. There’s mindful. Hell, the name Anita Hill can launch me into a let’s-brawl-about-politics frenzy. But atop that manure heap of terminology lies the word pussy. And he knows it.