For forty years I listened to my parents argue. I thought it would end today. Wrong.
“This is Turner’s!” Dad bellowed. “Damn it woman, you know I wanted to be laid out at Santini’s!”
“You get back in that coffin, Ed Gurney!” Mom shrieked. “Climb back in there this instant, or I swear I’ll...”
I headed out to the parking lot for a smoke. There was no use trying to stop them. They’d be at it all night. Hell, they’d probably be at it for all eternity.
Copyright © 2004 by Charles Richard Laing