“The meeting has been shifted again”.
She looked up aghast.
“Yes.” He said. His face had no expression. His dark eyes revealed nothing.
She started praying fervently. It really couldn’t be on a Wednesday. Or could it? This hanging-by-the-thread feeling was a bit much.
“It’s shifted to… “. His phone beeped. Distracted he checked his phone, heartlessly not finishing his sentence.
She did not want to show her eagerness to know. But inside, she was self-destructing, one cell at a time.
He finished keying in a frantic reply. He looked up at her. His face was blank.
“I was saying…” he started again tentatively
“… that the meeting has been pushed to… ” she finished with alacrity.
“Oh yes yes… Thursday. It’s Thursday. Say… that leaves me free for lunch on Wednesday. Should we…?”
“No no… it’s a Wednesday. Nothing on a Wednesday”, she said firmly as she pushed her chair back, and started clearing the table. This was a silent signal to him that the conversation was over.
“Er… why?” he asked, hesitantly. She seemed to be different now.
She turned around dramatically and proclaimed.
“Because it’s a Wednesday. And on Wednesdays I write.”
There. She had said it. And said it out loud. He opened his mouth to say something but no words came out.
She did her familiar in-the-head-jig. The jig you do when you don’t have to give up on your Wednesday My Alchemy Writing Session.
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