They had nothing to say to each other.

She sat on the swivel chair, spinning around and around, pieces of hair loosening themselves from her ponytail and whipping about. He walked into the attached kitchen and pushed himself onto the counter, then sat down; his eyes quickly found a bunch of bananas, and he began to peel one. As he began to eat the flesh of the banana, she stopped her revolution. The woman stood shakily and let a smile form on her harsh features. She staggered and gripped the desk beside her chair for support. She looked at the room, up at the single glowing bulb above their heads, and down to the carpet. It was a delicate pink. The man hated it.

She had nothing to say to him, but she said it anyway. "I'm dizzy."

He had nothing to say to her, but he replied. "I know."