One Word: Circles
"You’re doing it again,” she complained. Her lips were turned down into a frown. Over the past few months the lines around her mouth started to crease into the familiar expression. She would spend the rest of the night in front of the mirror pulling and prodding the tender area as if that could perform a miracle facelift. He stirred his cup, spoon clinking loudly against the ceramic mug, one more time for good measure. Maybe her eye would twitch again and he would relish in the personal victory. The café they decided to stop in was just off of the highway outside of Nashville. It was small with yellow linoleum floors, dark wooden tables, and smelled of coffee and butter. There was a consistent flow of people looking for a quick pick me up on their journey to wherever. It wasn’t her idea to pull off; she wanted to keep going. She thought it was because the rain was coming down in sheets, submerging the roads in two feet of water, but it was the silence in the car that was becoming ...