It was late at night and we were slowly walking back to the house. It was a crisp autumn night with no wind. The moon was full and shining over us. The four of us trudged slowly on the pavement, smoking cigarettes and talking.

“I dated a girl like that once,” I said out loud.

“A girl like what?” they asked.

“Don’t make me say it. You know it sounds bad if I say it like that. You know I mean a crazy.”

They all chuckled. You could see their laughter in the chill of the night air. 

“I remember being told that I was embarrassed to be seen with her in public,” I said. 

“How’d she figure that?” they asked. 

“She told me I always walked faster than her when we were out. That I was rushing ahead so I wouldn’t be seen with her.”

I took a drag of my cigarette and flicked it out ahead of us. 

“I wasn’t rushing anywhere. You’ve seen me walk before. I take huge strides. I have quite the gait.”

“You’re right,” they responded. “Slow the fuck down.”