He and She began talking again. There is a nagging worry, a condition disquieted by the accumulation of thought. And before they rust my composure, I need to dust it off. I need to feel good. I’m done with the confusion et al, she began. “WTH! She just ruined my reading. And now she wants to discuss something that sounds like sorrow?” was his instant response in the head. It had to come. He hated ephemeral sensations of delight. “Yeah sure. What’s bothering you?” he asked.
…that’s exactly the reason why I am scared – of these frets. If I am happy now, I fear losing it forever. You are a part of this mire too. It is good but sticky… With those words she ended her narration.
For the first time, he said nothing.
He could not ask for more Equilibrium, darned and part of a dysfunctional fact phase of life.
He didn't have to make it to page#100! He just lingered over their agony.