|
off? You think he asked the truck driver to save his life? Did
he ever realize that he was getting killed ...
She swallows her saliva, shaking her head angrily. That's it,
she says.
She fumbles for her cigarettes from her purse. He shoos off her hand
with a gentle push and digs the pack out, along with the lighter.
He lights a cigarette in his mouth, choking hard on the smoke -- how
long has it been? Years? Then he holds the lit cigarette out, and
she clamps down on it with her mouth. Her lips brush against his thumb
and forefinger.
Thank you, she says.
|
|
Can we go to Kenting? he asks.
You're serious about that?
Sure. I mean, it doesn't matter. Anywhere you want to go is fine.
You don't care? What if I drive into the other lane? Maybe I want
to hit a truck head on.
Doesn't matter.
You're weird.
Not as weird as you, maybe.
|