robooo

We’ve been standing at the window of the hotel for fifteen minutes.

“Those two towers over there look like boobs.”

“What?” my brother asks.

I look away, “nothing,” I mumble.

“You’re twenty-eight.”

“I know.”

“Really.”

I sigh. “I miss my girlfriend.”

He shakes his head, “no excuse.”

I take out an electronic cigarette, puff away. We continue looking out the window; Ohio. Even the sky looks bored. My brother points.

“Those two buildings over there.”

“Where?”

“There,” he points again.

I nod, “ah. what about them.”

“They look like robot nipples,” he says.

I frown, “what?”

“Robot nipples.”

“But–” I start.

“It’s robot nipples,” he says, firmly.

“So?”

“So, it’s different.”

I tug extra hard on the e-cigarette.

“How?”

He shrugs.

The bathroom door opens, “What are you guys doing?”

“Nothing.”

Our mother comes over and stands at the window with us.

“Those two buildings over there look like boobs,” she says.

We nod. My brother points, “and robot nipples.”

Our mother squints out at them, “Huh, you’re right.”

She turns to me, “did you see what the continental breakfast is?”

I nod, “hard-boiled eggs and white bread.”

She groans, the sky groans with her. “Let’s get the fuck out of Ohio.”

 

**My sincere apology to those from Ohio, it’s just–hm, yeah.

A Writer and an artist living in Russia

22 Comment on “Robot Nipples

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