They have wound their way underneath the blanket and the other person until their back is on the couch and both of them face each other. The person on top stretches out in a full body yawn.

Surprisingly comfortable.

I know. He normally hates my friends. You're special. How do you feel?

I feel you're elbow getting in the way of me and your couch having a deeper relationship.

I couch block and I'm proud.

You're so not funny. But it's cute.

Ooh, Hello... Are you just saying it's cute because you want some? How sustainable will my jokes be post coital?

Mmmmah. That's better. You're jokes are cute. Isn't that why you use them?

Use them?

Yeah, like, 'and now for my next trick'.

Jesus. You think I'm that calculated?

Don't be ashamed. Being 'calculated' has become the evil twin of... 'thinking things through before you do em'.

He's brother's got a heck of a longer name.

Why have you stuck a gender on, 'thinking things through'? And on your couch come to think of it.

I'm not sure.


Hardly. I was trying not to be a pedant. And my couch is obviously a man. Couches are men, beds are women.

On what?

Planet earth?

Trying not to be a pedant on what?

Thinking things through would've got a red marker across it and I would've recommended, being thorough. Fuck pedants anyway, they are worse than sexists... that's my spleen, that's my spleen... urrrrgh...

Next time you correct me, do so firmly.

… k.


by Chima Nsoedo