Member-only story
GRAY NYMPHO MONOLOGUES
I’m Usually Wrong
when giving a lover the benefit of the doubt . . .
I go fullbore delusional whenever I let my empathy run rampant.
Remember Roberto? He’s the lonely man with the cute curly white dog Sofia. He lives across the atrium and down on the ground floor. We had two physical encounters lately, our first in a year of being neighborly.
He attacked me with nonstop roaming kisses.
Not as horrifying as it may sound, but surely not engaging.
Later, I was wheeling laps as Roberto stood on his patio motioning me to stop and pay attention. As annoying as his cloying signals are, I feel sorry for him. Does he have the self-awareness to feel bad about how over-the-top he acted when we were together in his apartment for a few minutes the other day?
Everyone knows I don’t stop my workout for anyone.
I’m a mover, not a talker.
Roberto stood looking pensive, with sad and lonely notes. He donned a French beret to one side in the gloaming dawn, a refreshing change from the ball cap or cowboy hat hiding the many shiny domes around this place.
Opium coaxing my empathetic madness to…
