“And then Jon shows up, hovering like he wants to sit, and you know how Del feels about Jon…”
The sensation starts at the back of head and I mistaken it for a mosquito, though I know it’s on the inside.
“There’s a free chair, so he sits uninvited, talking nervously like he does…”
It crawls into my lizard brain and I smile at the impulse to kill.
“Well, you know Del, always ranting and carrying on, but he just sits there, stone-silent, so we know he’s pissed and…”
It borrows farther into my brain and I imagine newly transformed bees eating themselves free of the honeycomb.
“So Jon is going on about some inane crap and Del just loses it, laughing madly, and we’re all just gaping at him, and he finally stops and says he’s never heard a bigger pile of…”
It spreads itself across the back of my head. I’m ready to pull off a piece of my skull to get to it.
“Brenda then gets all mad at Del and starts telling him off and so Amy jumps and I’m sure there’s going to be a catfight and…”
It wraps itself around my brain, squeezing it into citrus pulp, chasing reason before it.
“Charlene,” I say, and she finally stops talking. “Could you please just shut up?”
“Jeez, if you don’t what to hear this just say so.”