The kid lives three houses away. Me and Mary, we got the house on the corner. I call it her corner office but she doesn’t think that’s funny anymore. I don’t think its funny anymore either.
“I made eggs.”
“Breakfast of champions.”
“I thought that was Wheaties.”
“I thought it was a shitty book.”
She laughs a little, not like she used to. “Anyway, they’re in the fridge.”
I grab a cup of coffee and open the kitchen shades while I’m at it. The light hits the sink and I can see its been polished over night. Why can’t she forget that kid?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
I AM BEN MILLER
No comments:
Post a Comment