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Here is a fragment of conversation from my current chapter of Sprache. It was nice, but it was also steering the discussion in a direction it didn't need to go and weighing down the narrative with unnecessary introspection.
“Weren’t you friends with your wife before you married and had children?” She’d dropped back on her heels and leaned out of his embrace to turn off the burner beneath the beef.
“My children aren’t from my wife,” he’d confessed diffidently. “I had them when I was younger and less prudent in my use of condoms.”
“They were...surprises, then?” She’d chosen the word carefully, determined not to offend him.
“Yes, but not regrets. I can’t say the same for the relationships that produced them, but my children are my greatest treasures.”
“You met your wife later, then?”
“Yes. At a nightclub in New York. I was on tour and blowing off steam, and she was there.”
“How romantic,” Calliope had noted wryly, and slipped his embrace altogether to carry the pot of beef over to a plastic container in order to drain off the grease.
He’d shrugged. “I wasn’t looking for romance.”
“Weren’t you friends with your wife before you married and had children?” She’d dropped back on her heels and leaned out of his embrace to turn off the burner beneath the beef.
“My children aren’t from my wife,” he’d confessed diffidently. “I had them when I was younger and less prudent in my use of condoms.”
“They were...surprises, then?” She’d chosen the word carefully, determined not to offend him.
“Yes, but not regrets. I can’t say the same for the relationships that produced them, but my children are my greatest treasures.”
“You met your wife later, then?”
“Yes. At a nightclub in New York. I was on tour and blowing off steam, and she was there.”
“How romantic,” Calliope had noted wryly, and slipped his embrace altogether to carry the pot of beef over to a plastic container in order to drain off the grease.
He’d shrugged. “I wasn’t looking for romance.”