She could talk for hours. Sometimes he wanted to hear it, sometimes he didn't. For months he'd wanted her gone, but he couldn't find the words to express it. She was like a China doll, one wrong word and she's break. And he didn't want to spend any more time with her than he had to. Especially not fixing her. God do you know how long that would take? Putting a broken China doll back together? And this wasn't the kind you could fix with glue and tape, she needed love and affection. Something I definitely did not want to give her. In fact, I haven't wanted to give her anything in ages. I don't even want to hear her name. She's borderline annoying, over analytical, and way to boisterous for my taste. When she's not drowning on ABOUT stories, or people, or saying things that have absolutely no relevance she's ok. But still not someone I'd like to spend any extra time with. God is she still talking? I don't even remember what she was saying. Something about some place she wanted to show me. I nodded my head and slid my hands into my pockets. If she was good at one thing, it was reading people, and normally I could get her to shut up by doing or saying the right thing. So I slouched a little, and threw my hands deeper into my pockets. My nods became slower and less deliberate, and I stared at a point just behind her right shoulder. She shut up fast. Damn she could read people, only decent thing about her.
