She was up to here with him.
Had endured enough.
Could cope no further.
Katie turned smartly on her heels, and flounced out of the department, across Elizabeth Street and into her favourite lunch-time retreat. Greta-Garbo-like she sat in splendid isolation, yet connected to the world. Riffling through this week’s magazine-of-choice, she could not settle. Neither her eyes nor her brain could concentrate on the written word, no matter how vacuous.
Katie had long felt a disconnect between head and heart, and wished desperately for a similar disconnect between thought and speech, to no avail. Bouncy and bubbly by nature, she continually rushed in where others feared to tread. She longed to befriend shades of grey, but perceived the world in black and white. She pined for the day when subtlety became her friend.
She needed to relax, to uncoil the spring, but was hesitant to expose the inner fragility.