‘Have you finished it yet?’ she asks, all eager and excited.
‘Just finished it this second,’ I place the copy of her latest short story on the coffee table.
‘Well,’ she demands, ‘what do you think?’
‘It’s…’ I hesitate.
‘Oh God. You hate it.’ She grabs the pages up and begins to crumple them up.
‘Hey take it easy,’ I say in my most placating voice. ‘I don’t hate it. Not at all. Heck I only just finished. I haven’t had a second to think about it.’
‘Think!’ She shouts. ‘What’s is there to think about? Seriously, what the Hell is there to think about? You read something. You like it. You hate it. Whatever! You don’t have to think about it!’
I take a deep breath, thinking carefully about what I’m going to say next. It definitely won’t be the truth.
‘It’s good, really it is.’ I try for my sincerest smile though I’m not sure how close I get.
‘Good!’ She flings the pages into a corner. ‘I’d prefer you to be honest rather than trying to be nice. What did you really think?’
No way ends well for me…