[She puts her chin on her hand and looks off into the middle distance. (Which, in this case, is at the percolating coffee pot.) This seems like information someone like her shouldn't care about--but she also isn't entirely sure, yet, who "someone like her" is.]
Then I imagine the horse I met was owned by a fuckin' idiot. [Her brow furrows a bit. Who . . . ? Well, maybe it--doesn't matter?] That seems right, yes.
That's very interesting, anyway. I've never had a horse. [A beat.] Prob . . . ably.
no subject
[She puts her chin on her hand and looks off into the middle distance. (Which, in this case, is at the percolating coffee pot.) This seems like information someone like her shouldn't care about--but she also isn't entirely sure, yet, who "someone like her" is.]
Then I imagine the horse I met was owned by a fuckin' idiot. [Her brow furrows a bit. Who . . . ? Well, maybe it--doesn't matter?] That seems right, yes.
That's very interesting, anyway. I've never had a horse. [A beat.] Prob . . . ably.