She was striding across the room, wall to wall. I could make a song with the rhythm coming from her steps. I refrained myself from doing so because I didn’t want to set her rage free.
— Why hesitating? Just go meet one of your fans.
— I can’t! My work is still too incomplete!
— Then settle down and have a smoke.
I smelled a cigarette before lightning it up. An old habit. At the first sign of smoke, she violently opened the windows.
— Hey, it’s cold, you know!
— Robert, cut that crap.
— Just go and meet that stalker fan girl already.
Unexpectedly, she screamed in anger, came to me furiously, stole my cigarette, gave me a bad breath kiss and and left the room stomping and smoking magnificently.
