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As hard as he tried, he just didn’t grasp the meaning of what she said.

“I’m not talking about that any more with you.” She was mad that her friend kept bringing it up.

It was the little things.
You had to pay attention. They were always listening. Watching most of the time. He wondered about the person who had to transcribe everything.

It had been two days now. What was wrong with him? Did she misunderstand something?

I was surprised by that last move. It threw me off my game. I wasn’t sure what to do.

His night life was getting to be too much. He couldn't keep the charade up much longer.

He needed them to acknowledge that he was not like all the others. He was different. They had to know that.

He thought long and hard about the next step. It was not the time to guess. He had to make the right move.

It arrived too early and got burned around the edges. The moment seemed right. Something went terribly wrong.


While posting on Instagram, I started adding a narrative to the image, instead of a title or description. 

The combination told a short story even if the relationship between image and statement was not always clear.

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