BIG TUNA.

           “mm, then you probably die,” june answers abruptly, her gaze purposefully condescending.  she leans back in her chair, crossing her legs with a sense of finality.  a grin fights at the corners of her lips, but she struggles against it with all her might.  “i mean, how good are you at picking berries?  you’re really going to let me go to waste like that?”

open.

          “i’m just saying if it meant survival, i wouldn’t have a problem with it; i mean —– i’d probably be OFFENDED if we were stranded in the wilderness and you weren’t willing to eat me to survive.”

       jim’s lips press together, his head drops, and he rubs his palm across his mouth in a slow, stressed motion. for a moment he avoids eye contact, keeps his gaze held downward, and when he looks back up his eyes are red and shiny. the tears won’t fall--- he’s not that talented at faking it--- but he has managed to stir up enough emotion to look, for a split second, like he might cry. 

           EVERY SO OFTEN, JIM DIES OF BOREDOM.