the cadence of rubber soles.

“What would you like to talk about?”
“I thought you were going to ask me something.”
[Request permission to ask. Verify grounds for request.]
“No. You must know why you are here.”
[Been teased and taunted. For longer than—]
“I need a structured exchange.”
“Just say what’s on your mind.”
[I’m wearing the wrong shoes. I just realised.
They make those clicking sounds. Lame.]
“I’m not prepared. Perhaps some other time.”
“This session’s still payable.”
[Those damned clicks will be echoing across the hall, heralding a more justified form of existence. I just know it.]
“And I’ll be the stronger for it.”
“Come again?”
[An old head on young shoulders—an no rubber soles.]