A Lack Of Empathy
Seven, eight, nine sneezes in a row. It's becoming painfully orgasmic and the woman sitting next to her just got up and shifted seats, throwing Connie the most withering stare. It's the chocolate. Really good dark chocolate makes her sneeze. Repeatedly. Generally not this uncontrollably- three seems to be the magic number- so now she's wondering what the hell was in the bag of leftover chocolate chips she bought from the bulk store because this is insane. Peter used to make fun of her, taunting her with incredible hand poured organic chocolate squares that he'd flaunt in front of her like a carrot on a stick. His idea of foreplay. Get her all worked up then giggle wildly when she was tearing up and sneezing a fit. Painfully uncomfortable. Connie never understood Peter's sense of humour and that was a major nail in their relationship's coffin. You're too sensitive, he'd say; so dramatic, so intense. His detached, emotionally disengaged observ...