 |
Long distance
D.: Wait. You're not serious about this.
S.: Before he gets home. I've already got a truck.
D.: Where did you get a truck?
S.: My sister's husband. He's...very protective of me.
D.: You can't do this, S.
S.: I can and I will. He'll be at work late tonight, so when else am I going to do it?
D.: You could think on this for awhile.
S.: I have been thinking on this for thirteen years.
D.:
S.: Look, I just can't take the stagnancy anymore. Do you know when the...last time...was?
D.:
S.: Nearly a year ago. Eight months and seventeen days.
D.:
S.: I really need you to be with me on this. Please.
D.: You can't leave him.
S.: I have to. I'm dying.
D.: You're too melodramatic. There's something to be said for stability and comfortability. There's something to be said for love.
S.: Screw love. All I want is something spicy.
D.: What will he do when he comes home?
S.: I don't know, and I don't care.
D.: You know he'll be crushed.
S.: Yeah, well. He'll get over it.
D.: You're heartless.
S.: Look, just because he's your brother doesn't mean you have to be on his side all of the time.
D.: You're wrong. That's the whole point.
S.: I'm not wrong. He's wrong.
D.: He hasn't done anything.
S.: ...Yeah, I know. That's sort of the reason I'm leaving, D.
D.: And if I tell him?
S.: I had a feeling you would. My stuff's already out of the house. I'm calling from Tulsa.
D.:
S.: I left him this morning, after he drove to work.
D.:
S.: I hope this won't damage our relationship, D.
D.: (click)
Incredible edible news: the next issue of The Paumanok Review will feature "Two Cords of Wood."
| |
