floating

Wayne had been in some odd situations in his lifetime, that much was certain. Being inflated like a balloon, carried home like a cheap toy, tied down to a balcony railing and left to float in the breeze, however, certainly took the cake in his opinion. Even now the sensations of both the air swirling around inside him and the pressure it brought as well as the feeling of every cold winter breeze magnified against his taut, sensitive skin still felt indescribably alien to him.

“It was fucking garbage, Wayne.”

“Hey, cmon, I liked it.”

“Oh, you liked a mindless action movie with scantily clad Hollywood women and explosions every 5 minutes? Stop the presses!”

This argument between Wayne and Sylvia had been going on like this from the moment they walked out of the theatre right up until now, as a promising anniversary date was slowly turned sour by the Hollywood machine.

“It's not my fault if you can't appreciate the nuance and subtext of a movie like this.”