“How’s the weather today?” Maga asked.
“It was quite chilly today.”
“How unusual.”
“Actually, unfortunately, it’s not.”
“What do you mean?”
“April is more of a winter month than a spring month.”
“That’s too bad,” she paused, “What are you doing? It sounds like you’re throwing things around.”
“Oh, sorry. I’m making my lunch for tomorrow. I’m multitasking. I didn’t realize it was making that much noise.”
“Well, it’s always good to use your time as much as possible.”
I’d never felt so guilty before for not procrastinating, but I tried to make the rest of my lunch preparations as quiet as possible while we un-ironically talked about how neither of us had much news to share.
“I’m sorry I don’t have anything exciting to report,” I said. “It’s been pretty quiet here.”
“That’s okay. Quiet is better than too much.”
For tonight, it was, especially since I was sporting a tickly, prickly beginning of a cold sore throat and speaking for long stretches wasn’t fun. But even without much to say, the quiet was better together.
Abigail Mumford 