35
" Newness wears off.
This is something I’ve learned about relationships. I’ve had more than a few run their course, the idiosyncrasies that were once endearing becoming annoying, the jump of my heart into my throat at the sight of her lessening to a skip, then a pause, then the bare recognition that at some point slips into dread, and you know it’s time to end it.
It’s different with Alex. The newness might have faded, which is inevitable, but it’s grown into something better. The panic of not being able to come up with something to say to her has settled into the comfort of companionable silence, my hand resting on her knee, or her head on my chest. The frantic need to be near her and know how she feels has morphed into an almost pleasant ache of missing her when she’s not with me, because I know we’ll be together again. "
― Mindy McGinnis , The Female of the Species
36
" I cannot go to school today" Said little Peggy Ann McKay." I have the measles and the mumps,A gash, a rash and purple bumps.My mouth is wet, my throat is dry.I'm going blind in my right eye.My tonsils are as big as rocks,I've counted sixteen chicken pox.And there's one more - that's seventeen,And don't you think my face looks green?My leg is cut, my eyes are blue,It might be the instamatic flu.I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,I'm sure that my left leg is broke.My hip hurts when I move my chin,My belly button's caving in.My back is wrenched, my ankle's sprained,My 'pendix pains each time it rains.My toes are cold, my toes are numb,I have a sliver in my thumb.My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,I hardly whisper when I speak.My tongue is filling up my mouth,I think my hair is falling out.My elbow's bent, my spine ain't straight,My temperature is one-o-eight.My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,There's a hole inside my ear.I have a hangnail, and my heart is ...What? What's that? What's that you say?You say today is .............. Saturday?G'bye, I'm going out to play! "
37
" Says O'Sullivan to me, " Mr. Fay, I'll have a word wid yeh?" " Certainly," says I; " what can I do for you?" " Sell me your sea- boots, Mr. Fay," says O'Sullivan, polite as can be. " But what will you be wantin' of them?" says I. " 'Twill be a great favour," says O'Sullivan. " But it's my only pair," says I; " and you have a pair of your own," says I. " Mr. Fay, I'll be needin' me own in bad weather," says O'Sullivan. " Besides," says I, " you have no money." " I'll pay for them when we pay off in Seattle," says O'Sullivan. " I'll not do it," says I; " besides, you're not tellin' me what you'll be doin' with them." " But I will tell yeh," says O'Sullivan; " I'm wantin' to throw 'em over the side." And with that I turns to walk away, but O'Sullivan says, very polite and seducin'-like, still a-stroppin' the razor, " Mr. Fay," says he, " will you kindly step this way an' have your throat cut?" And with that I knew my life was in danger, and I have come to make report to you, sir, that the man is a violent lunatic. "
