Tiny Stories And Concepts

Rigor

He leaned in close to inspect my face. "I've never seen those eyes look so dull. What's going on up there?"
I didn't respond, and left my glazed-over gaze pointed out the window.
"Hmm," he mused, "you thinking about something or is it just elevator music?"
I didn't have the energy to banish him. He acted like he was studying his nails, trying to egg me into talking.
"So you're just gonna ignore me huh? Well that's nice. I can be hard to ignore though. I can make your mom crash the car. That would be fun, wouldn't it?"
"Get a life, rigor." I said mutely.
He cackled at that. "Get a life, that's a good one! Still cracking jokes, you fiery girl." His vaporous smile drifted into my line of sight. "So back to me and my questions. What's got you all beaten down? It's no fun when you're depressed."
"I'm not depressed."
He rolled his eyes. "Okay okay well whatever you are, you're being annoying." He reached out and made to poke me in the eye, but I was so used to it I didn't even blink as his wispy finger went through my eye and into my skull. There was a light temperature change behind my eyebrow, but nothing I hadn't felt a hundred times.
He sighed dramatically, "Fine, I guess if you hate me so much I'll just leave, you boring baby. I'll just jump right out the car and go make someone else crash when I tickle their inner ear."
I reached out and grabbed him by the scruff of his neck. "Shut up for once."
He struggled around, and swiped at me a few times for good measure, his hands passing right through my face. I let him go and looked back out the window, my eyes unfocusing again, and my brain drifting off to places of sinking regret. He condensed up in a huff, just a small, featureless ball of annoyance floating in the seat next to me. "Absolutely no fun at all." He muttered.