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“There she is,” he said.
“I’ve always been quiet,” she said.
“I know who she is. I’ve known her for twenty years. I’ve spent nineteen birthdays, eighteen Christmases, and forty-seven Sunday lunches with her. This Saturday, I’m staying home.”
“Yes.”
“I said I’m not going. You can go. Tell her I have a migraine.”
The sun rose over the lake, orange and indifferent. She sat on a bench and watched a man feed the ducks. A child ran past, screaming with joy for no reason. An old woman walked slowly, holding a cane in one hand and a croissant in the other.
“There she is,” he said.
“I’ve always been quiet,” she said.
“I know who she is. I’ve known her for twenty years. I’ve spent nineteen birthdays, eighteen Christmases, and forty-seven Sunday lunches with her. This Saturday, I’m staying home.”
“Yes.”
“I said I’m not going. You can go. Tell her I have a migraine.”
The sun rose over the lake, orange and indifferent. She sat on a bench and watched a man feed the ducks. A child ran past, screaming with joy for no reason. An old woman walked slowly, holding a cane in one hand and a croissant in the other.