Knock Knock, Open Wide

by Neil Sharpson

She wondered whose idea it had been to have Valentine’s Day in the middle of the bleakest, most depressing month of the year.

Nothing suspicious. Just two straight gal pals sleeping in the same bed. These aren’t the lesbians you’re looking for, move along.

Kate flashed her the slightly harried smile of a woman who had started one part of the cooking too early and another part too late and was trying desperately to get the two ends to meet in the middle.

“I’m not really attracted to men or women. I just get attracted to certain people sometimes. Actually just you. You’re the first person I’ve ever had a real … y’know. I’ve never felt the way I feel about you with anyone else. So I don’t think I’m gay or straight. I think I’m just … Beterosexual.”

She hated giving condolences. It always felt like adding to someone’s suffering, not taking away. Forcing them to acknowledge you. To thank you for the gift of useless, meaningless words.