Everyday conversation

5 06 2003

He walked into the room where she sat reading in a comfy chair. Collapsing on the bed, he lay, eyes closed, and in a painful whisper, he spoke.

“I’m dying, Jeanne. I’m dying.”

“Everyone’s dying,” she reminded him, without the slightest hint of sympathy in her matter-of-fact tone.

She watched him as he lay motionless, eyes still closed.

“I know,” he said.

She kept her eyes fixed on his stony, unseeing profile. The faintest smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Then, abruptly, he turned and grinned at her. They both laughed.

Turning his face back toward the ceiling, he closed his eyes once more. And she returned to her book.



3 responses

5 06 2003

I don’t even know what to say here…but I just love the tone in this. It’s so like life, isn’t it?

5 06 2003

Life can be so life-like.

So like life . . . because, well, let’s just say if our family were a reality TV show, this would have been the nail-biter scene from last night’s episode. (We could single-handedly eliminate the need for sleep-inducing drugs.)

6 06 2003

Re: Life can be so life-like.

maybe your half of the house is boring! but mine is full of light switch raves and crazy go nuts good times… we have cold ones… and uh… phytoplankton…

you are so mean to dad… i mean really… he could have been dying. heartless beastie!


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