Thursday, May 26, 2011

the way it goes.

He slammed his phone down onto the bar, the sound barely registering amongst the din of emptied shot glasses.

"Don't you just hate it when you call your mom and she just won't answer the damn phone?" he asked her.

"My mom died," she said, not removing her eyes from the vodka tonic she brought to her lips. "She died four days ago."

He paused. "So you must really hate it, then."

That made her smile for the first time in five days.

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