‘You know, Ray, I hated your mother. I thought she was pure
evil. There, I finally said it!’ exhaled Rita. ‘Surprised, huh? Or maybe not?’
Rita continued as her husband listened. ‘I am sure you aren’t surprised that I
hated her. You must be surprised though that I’m telling it to you! Aren’t you?’
‘You know, Ray, I bought a red coat today. A bright red. The color you said made me ‘look like a whore.’ It used to be my favorite color, but you
never let me buy it. I’m waiting for winter, so I can wear it.’
‘This Ray Nicolas! One lucky bastard!’ said Max as he exhaled a
big puff of smoke and passed on the cigarette to his friend, Fred.
‘You know, Ray, I do know you aren’t listening to me. You never did.
You never do. But I am still going to talk. I like hearing all that has been
trapped inside of me spoken out aloud. It is, what is the word, liberating…no,
not liberating…therapeutic. Yes. It is therapeutic.’
‘Why?’ asked Fred as he took a deep drag.
‘Rich father left everything to Ray. Mother spoilt him silly.
Got a beautiful and devoted wife…that one there…’ Max pointed towards Rita with
‘You know, Ray, I think I finally know what love is. I see it
for me in all that your friend, Roy, says to me and does for me. Say something
Ray, don’t just sit there stone-faced’ chided Rita as she brushed away an
autumn leaf that fell on Ray’s tombstone.
‘…she’s never missed a Sunday since Ray died a year ago. Comes
to his grave, cleans it, and talks to him like he’s listening…’
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