charades

What was that word again? The one that was on his face?”
I don’t know. I DON’T KNOW.
“What was that time again? You know, when he was in that place?”
Stop. Just stop.
“And what was the song he played? The one from…?”

Her fingers recoiling, it slipped from her grasp.
The urgency was suffocating and all she heard was line
after line after line after line
of how not to do it.

And he would die if she didn’t.