Free Broken by Travis Thrasher

it.”
    “What made you move away?”
    “Brady or New York? Hmm. Which city have you heard of?”
    “So that’s what did it?”
    “It’s a long story, and I’d need a lot more wine and time.”
    “I can oblige.”
    “I’m sure you can. I’m fine with all we had. Tell me about yourself. I like listening rather than talking.”
    “Not much to tell. I’m not originally from Greenville.”
    “I can tell. You don’t have a strong accent.”
    “I grew up in Cincinnati, Ohio. Moved down here for school. Then stayed.”
    Laila shifts as she asks him which college.
    “Gamecocks.”
    “Sorry?”
    “Don’t follow football, do you? Not even a little?” He sees her shake her head. “University of South Carolina.”
    “Oh.”
    “Did you go anywhere?”
    “No.”
    For a moment the no is open-ended. There is more to come. But then it hovers in the air like a golf ball, finally coming back
     down on the fairway and landing all by itself.
    “You know. My questions are just to get to know you. To find out a little more about you.”
    “Why?” she asks.
    “Because… well, among other things, many other things, I think you’re fascinating.”
    “I’m really not.”
    “Anybody who asks for a gun late on a Sunday night is interesting.”
    “Or psychotic.”
    “I guess if you had wanted to kill me, you would’ve already done so.”
    She forces a smile and takes a sip from her glass.
    “What type of trouble are you in?”
    “It doesn’t matter.”
    “It matters enough to get a gun,” Kyle says, his face so fresh and seemingly innocent.
    “But it shouldn’t matter you one bit.”
    “Is there anything I can do?”
    She smiles, finishes the wine, then laughs. “You know, we used to have coyotes on our land back in Brady. We had a lot of
     property, and sometimes these nasty coyotes would come and get into things. Kill our animals. I remember when I was young
     and scared, I asked my father what he was going to do one night. It was late and he had a rifle and he was going out. He had
     that look on his face, that look that said he was up to something. And that’s what he said to me.”
    “What?”
    “ ‘It shouldn’t matter you one bit.’ I think the better saying is it shouldn’t bother me one bit, but I always liked the way
     he said that. Imagine this big gruff Mexican with a deep accent saying, ‘It shouldn’t matter you one bit.’”
    “It matters to me, Laila.”
    “I know. Thank you. Thank you for doing this.”
    “For sipping wine with probably the most beautiful woman I’ve seen in my life?”
    She tightens her lips, glancing away.
    “I’m sorry. It’s true. I just had to say that. Not that you haven’t heard that before.”
    “Thank you. Thank you for everything.”
    “That sounds like something you’ve said a thousand times before.”
    “Maybe.” Laila pauses. “But I’ve never said it to someone like you.”
    “My cousin sure liked you.”
    “Yes, he did.”
    They both laugh.
    “Sorry he was a bit—well, you know.”
    “That’s okay. He was harmless.”
    “Yeah. But he’s got a one-track mind.”
    “I’m used to one-track minds.”
    “Yeah, I bet.”
    “Sometimes it seems like the world has a one-track mind, you know?”
    Kyle nods.
    “Do you like it around here?” she asks, changing the subject.
    “Where? Greenville or the South?”
    “Both, I guess.”
    “I love Greenville. Never thought I’d still be at the bank, but I guess in today’s economy, any job is a good job. Especially
     at a bank, you know? Believe it or not I always wanted to be a photographer.”
    “Why aren’t you?”
    “Oh, I don’t know. Back in college it was a hobby, but I was never really serious about it. You blink and ten years pass,
     you know?”
    She nods.
    “I still do it from time to time. Not sure how I could have made much money from it. That’s what it usually boils down to.
     A dream is just that. You realize you have to be like the rest of the world and earn a