There was so much of nothing in the space between them.
A chasm, thick with emptiness.
Filled with words that never connected.
And “nothing” had become a weapon in a cruel game.
Where the plot was, whoever could say the most while showing the least would win.
With a twist of complicated side-stepping.
Dodging any realness that accidentally escaped from the players.
Because somewhere along the line avoidance had become the polite thing to do.
A learned behavior where silence epitomized good manners.
And their voices echoed across the distance of a dinner table, making conversations difficult.
While their children looked on.
Learning the rules of the game.