discolored

Several months ago:

The dudes had again confirmed each others' coolness.

"Yeah, pound it," one proffered a fist.

"Respect knuckles." was the matched response.

"Not respect," corrected the first in an expanded gesture of brotherhood , "Love."


"Love without respect?" I interrupted.

They turned to acknowledge me out of the haze of their coolness and still using their cool voices, "Yeah." heads bob.

"So," I meddled further, "abuse?"







"Ha- .. uh ..." In the long silence, their eyes searched the air above our heads for a good reply before admitting defeat: "yeeeaah ... There's no way to make that funny."

I felt like I had spoiled something.