I have a feeling that both the physiological and the metaphorical hiccups will plague me today. As a side note, I also went to sleep hiccupping. What follows is not intentionally an extension of yesterday’s Five Times with Water. Also, nothing to do with hiccups.
To the inexperienced, the uneducated, the mundane it might just be mist–or fog. That’s all it would have been to Eric a fortnight ago. Now it was more like a humor. A seeping vapor of Melancholic rising off the foreign landscape becoming Sanguine. But maybe that’s just Eric. Maybe that’s just new-Eric.
Eric traveled with his girlfriend Jill to the [something Chinese] province of China to do some guided backpacking. They spent two-weeks traipsing the backwaters of the nation discovering [this], [that], and [some other things]. Mostly they discovered that she was pregnant. And didn’t want to be.
There was a fight in which the phrases, "This isn’t the 50’s. You don’t have to do the right thing because you knocked me up." and "When did you become such a God damned Feminist?" were exchanged.
Eric brooded on the Feminist thing. He didn’t really know what it was supposed to mean. As far as he could recall Feminists were pretty laid back these days and Jill had never claimed to be one nor had she really become a ‘God damned’ one either. But it did have a rhythm on the tongue as he’d said screamed it. He’d long ago learned never to use the word cunt unless you were ready to proceed directly to the nearest exit, so he restrained himself–somewhat. He wasn’t ready to end it.
Word count: 294