Overcast
Aaron Burch

What did I just say, she asks.
I'd been busying myself recreating the above cloudscapes on my arm. I rotate it toward her and show, point. But it looks backwards. Backwards and upside down, all wrong. Jumbled and mangled.
That looks jumbled and mangled, she says.
I was trying. The replication, I say.
You speak in too many ellipses, she says.
What do you mean? I pause too much?
No, she says. No. That's not what I said.