The Weather

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I don’t know what to say to you. Your eyes: they sparkle, bright and blue. My tongue swells and clogs my throat. I stutter and sputter an invisible choke.

I rack my mind for something to say.

My head hurts from banging away. The silence is starting to drone on and on. With every second, time is too long.

You simply ask, “How was your day?”

I rack my mind for something to say.

“It was good, I guess. Nothing new. How was yours?”

It was fine too.

We were walking and passed by each other. I feel this silence is making me dumber. With no other options left to try,

“The weather is nice.”


I hate being shy.





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