Steam rose between us from the urn in the kitchen. Duncan leaning on the bench right beside it. People came in and clanked through cupboards looking for things. They didn't disturb us though. I stood right beside him and the steam seemed to cast us invisible in a wet, warm bubble.
The wedding reception continuing outside of the room. Duncan's hand played with the beginnings of a beard along his jaw line. I hadn't met this side of him, although, I had guessed at it's existence.
He told me great pause, and considered gesture, a great analogy of his mood.
“You know those moments in animal documentaries when the antelope gets chased by the lion?”
I nodded and he went on.
“The lions don't usually catch the antelope, they just wait until it can't be bothered anymore, where it becomes so tired by the chase that it can't be bothered living. It just stops and waits to be killed. Then the lions catch up. I feel like that. I feel like that moment were the antelope just gives up. I want to just give up.”
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