By Eva Rivers
There’s not much to talk about now although it didn’t used to be like this. In the beginning we did a lot of deep talking. Usually after great sex. We talked about all the things that mattered in our juicy-as-a-peach world. What we’d do, and where we’d go. In time, we did sex without much talking, or sometimes, none at all. Finally, we stopped the sex and the talking. Or maybe it was the other way round. Neither of us can recall. Now we stare silently at our diminishing future and wonder how the heck it’s come to this.
Eva Rivers lives and works in London. Her fiction has appeared in Fictive Dream, Sick Lit Magazine, Penny Shorts, 101 Words, Firefly Magazine, Storgy and Scribble Magazine.