new fiction

I had been traveling longer and further than i ever had. I felt somewhat poor, somewhat royal. Adrienne sighed. "Do you think i can get to Castillo and back in time?" "Oui" just, oui. I loved him, I had always loved him. But not in a sexual way, not a baubly, desiring way. No doubt i did desire him, but i desire him the way i desired distance, the way i desired heartache, the way i wanted coffee on monday mornings, tea at two. I loved him the best way you can love someone: shallow, short.
He is an average height but its not apparent. He is slightly bitchy, and it is. I put up with it. I could not bear to extinguish him. A strange mix of extreme, brazen confidence and genuine moments of humility. Hypocrisy in its rarest and best form. I remember wondering which was the dominant side in him the night we killed clara. Its one of those things you go over and over again in your mind. Did it really happen? Was i really there? It didnt seem permitted...