Faces

”Did you see what I did there?” I ask comically, while stupidly pointing at my smiling face.  “Honestly honey, you’re mental; only mental people laugh at their own jokes,” she replies, whilst pulling a stupid mental face herself.  Suddenly, she stops getting dressed and stares at me, “—are you writing that in your note book?” she questions me.

      “No.”

      “Let me see,” says Louise, as she moves across the bed towards me.

      “Tell you what, I’ll write the answer on the back of your hand,” I suggest to her.  I don’t put the answer, but instead write Louise loves Dick on the back of her hand; black ink on pale skin.

      “No honestly,” she asks; now half laughing, half looking serious: “—did you write that in your note book?”

     “Yes,” I answer sheepishly.

     “Yea I thought so.  I know you so well. I know you,” she says pointing at me, her smile not mental: just natural, and beautiful.