continue anyway

look, i say, over the top of a watered down gin and tonic and plates full of curry, this isn’t my fault. he squeezes my knee under the table so hard i can feel the skin tighten over the cap. can feel his bones digging in to the soft places. the bruises already surfacing. i can’t take the pressure. close my mouth as my eyes fill up with water. look down at my plate and stay silent with the reminder of his heavy foot on top of mine. likely, he’s right. best just to let him do the talking. and i’ll shoulder the rest. that’s a fight i’ll probably never win. and i seem to get into less trouble when i keep quiet.