What I was asking was perhaps out of line.
Something I shouldn’t have asked.
But at the time I thought I could.
I thought he would accept it.
I didn’t think he would start asking questions.
I was wrong.
He did ask me questions.
Questions I didn’t know the answer to.
Or maybe I knew the answers but chose to forget.
But I asked him.
I asked him something I wanted to ask.
Was it out of line?
Should I have asked him?
But I thought I knew where I had him.
And I never thought he would come asking questions.
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Categories: flash fiction