I'm taking a Creative Writing class and here's one of my completed assignments.  The instructions were to dialogue a conversation where one party can only speak, and one can only think or have a physical reaction.  It's called "Four Little Words".

Four Little Words

"Do you still love me?"

She sat curled on the couch, arms folded, and contemplated his question.  Buying time, she pulled on a strand of her hair, and wound it round and round her index finger. 

"Well...do you?"

She didn't know what to say.  She looked at the floor, shrugged.  Her feet were falling asleep--it had been a long conversation--but she was afraid to move, to draw even more attention to her person.  She felt as if nothing placed more of a spotlight on a person than the yes or no question she had just been asked.

"How can you just shrug?  Are you kidding me?  Seven years together, and you just shrug?"

She shrugged again and instantly regretted it.  How childish she felt, sitting in her fluffy bunny slippers, shrugging at important questions, feeling like she wasn't quite ready to be the adult that this conversation suggested she was.

"Seriously, I can't sit here all day.  I'll go if don't love me, I'll stay if you do.  We can work through this if you want to work through this, but I won't stick around trying to make something work with a person who clearly wishes that it won't."

She wished the TV were still on.  He had made her turn it off earlier when he noticed that all she could do was stare at the muted characters on the screen.  If he had guessed that she was wishing she were them, that she were in the big box where nothing was real, where life was performed in front of green screen that digitally imposed life and character, then he was right.  She brushed at her eyes, then wished she hadn't.  She didn't want him to think she was shedding tears over him--them.  She sighed, opened her mouth to speak, the stopped.  She would not say those words to any person.  In her opinion, people should only hear when they are loved, not when they are not.

"What am I supposed to do?  I can't work with you when you're like this."

She hated when he talked like that, like he was her boss and she the bad employee.  She began picking at a string on her pajama pants.

"So...that's it?  Nothing?  You're going to sit there and say nothing?"

She nodded.  She wouldn't say it, no matter how much he prodded, no matter how much he needed the "closure".  If you can't say something nice, she thought, then took a deep breath.