Hidden Depth
Polina Arsenault
“Hi, how’re you?”
I smile at his kindness, but the dull boredom of the typical, cultural-standard greeting makes me yearn for more.
There are details he’s not asking for. My day had already been long. I have several papers due that have me stressed beyond distraction. My morning yogurt was perfect, made with the optimal fruit-to-yogurt-to-granola ratio. And yesterday, I received a text from my ex, and I’ve been riding that high ever since.
“I’m good, how’re you?” I’m more than just “Good,” there’s so much more I could’ve said, but he’ll never know.
“Good, work’s been tough.”
“Tell me more,” It’s become a beg. Please, tell me everything.
