Sara Subtlety is hopeful she will be beautiful for a few more years. She has perfected a health routine which quiets most of her fears. "A year is a long time," Joseph, says, with great certainty. He has nice eyes and a voice of poetry. "No, it isn't," she says. Joseph Obvious reels, perplexed, thinking, "you idiot! She hates when you sugar-coat things," and he knows the afternoon is almost ruined, the chances of sex with her now greatly diminished. Sara Subtlety is suddenly in a bad mood. "Shall I change the subject? No," Joseph Obvious thinks, "She notices things like that. How to correct myself? 'A year is short?' How will that help? I need a joke. I wish I had a better sense of humor." Sara looks at him with icy disdain, drinking in his slightly terrified demeanor. This is when he least wants her, when she tortures him, lording over the fact he has no sense of humor. She errs in thinking her foul moods turn him on. They don't. He loves her, but in a smooth way. You should have seen how he tried to read her mind, yesterday. She looks at wretched Obvious expectantly. No humor. All his wit saved for his love poetry. He wants to cry. "How many full moons in a year?" he blurts out. For a moment he has her; Sara doesn't know what to say. He asks the question with a smirk, in a stage-y voice. He can at least pretend to be funny, if he can't find a real piece of wit to make her laugh. "You're such a nerd," she says, with a terrifying smile. "I hate this dude even more," she thinks. As this talks to her all the while.
