“Maxine,” Katie sighed. “You know Maxine. You’ve met her
four or five time.”
Tom smiled weakly.
“She looks like Reese Weatherspoon,” Katie added.
Tom perked up – finally a description he could relate to.
“Oh, that Maxine,”
he smiled, trying to find a place to put his hands. “I remember her.”
In his effort to appear natural, his armed jerked around in
front of him, sending his beer flying. Warm amber spread, foaming, across the table.
When she was a kid, Katie had spent hours looking up at the
clouds, watching them morph from bunnies into ferris wheels or tennis balls,
horse-drawn carriages rolling through the sky.
But tonight, she watched the beer take on the shape of an
axe. It spread, cool and sticky, between them on the table. Without saying
anything, they stared and let their respective hearts sink. Somehow, they knew
it was over.
0 kommentarer:
Post a Comment