I didn’t want to waste the entire afternoon watching TV. Between the holidays, work, and the other stresses of life, we rarely got to spend time tog...ther. I knew that in a couple of hours I would have to get ready for work, so I took matters into my own hands. Getting up, I approached you and snatched the remote from your hands. I turned the TV off, just to provoke a reaction from you.You turned to me and angrily asked, “What the fuck is your problem, you damn bitch! I was watching that!” I. The note had said it, with question marks all around it, ‘songs that Mary sang when she told me her story’. Her story, told in songs, like she’d been doing with that singer-songwriter that Eric couldn’t stop talking about. She’d been strumming her own pain, telling her own life with her songs, and I wished I could have been the sole member of her audience. I hadn’t known it, but then all of a sudden I did. It was madness, but it seemed I loved her. And she loved… him. The list of songs, they. ‘Where are you going, mate?’ It was a middle-aged man dressed in overalls. ‘I thought I’d try hitching on the A38.’ ‘That might work. Hang on a mo. One of my mates lives out by Plympton. He might take us there. We’re on a building site just round the corner. It’ll only hold you up a couple of minutes and it’s worth a try.’ ‘Where have you got to get to?’ ‘Only to Ivybridge. If he can take me to Plympton I’m half way home.’ ‘OK. Thanks.’ ‘Save your thanks until we see if he’s still there.’ He. I thought about how he often seemed to excuse himself when I was almost in mid sentence. Then I’d find him checking the scores of some ball game or stock market trends. He would apologize for having become distracted. At times, I would become jealous as if some mistress that I could not compete against had once again seduced him. Yet, Todd returned quickly. ‘Come follow me,’ he commanded. I did not dare defy that look of authority, which he rarely displays. ‘What?’ I asked. ‘Just come with.
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