‘Will you come today?’
He sits there, fumbling with the remote. ‘Stocks, Annie. I got to watch this.’
‘Stocks are on every day Papa. She raises the flowers in her right hand. 'I only get these three months a year.’
‘We’ll go tomorrow. You got three months right?’ Rubs his balding head gently. His hand comes to the side of his face. The open window blows his thinning hair. It is a reminder.
The television hums. Tears drip onto his cardigan.
‘Come on. You’ve seen that film.’
‘What? This is a graveyard Maury, we’re not doing that here.’
‘Alright. What about next to that tree?’
She looks over and in the movement catches Maury’s grin. He shifts his leg slightly and that hardness fumbles against her leg. She hates dicks for their lack of personality. A dick would make a great marketing executive. A giant cock raps at spreadsheets and sales graphs as she pulls Maury to the tree and undoes his belt.