Ontological Damnation

Three people sit on the porch conversing generally. At the apex is a man, energy flows from him into his flankers, words fall from his mouth with a thud, innuendo escapes his eyes when he isn’t looking. On the right is a woman, her vocal inflections reveal too much, her actuality too little, she threatens cartwheels and Dick Cheney. On the left is a woman, face all sight and vision, each direction contained within her peripheral, each possession composed of an expansive heart and not-thick-enough skin. The cascading exchanges drip in obvious ambiguity, speech so vaguely conspicuous as to absolutely nullify a prosperous trivariate.

Man: Interesting situation.
R Woman: What do you mean?
Man: I don’t know.
R Woman: Perhaps we should change the subject.
Man: The subject?
L Woman: We could change the other.
Man: The other?
R Woman: We have already changed the other.