Sunday, December 4, 2016
He will have her.
I'm hungover as hell.
I was out all night drinking with my brothers. Except one, who's in Europe fighting in the war.
He sends his money home, and we spend it on wine. Cheap stuff, but lots of it. When he comes home he will have nothing.
Finally he'll know how the rest of us feel.
He always thought he was better than us. Above us. He even prays. Ma saw him do it once and she said: "Everyone look — Claude's talkin' to his food."
When he comes home he will have nothing. We will see to it. I will see to it.
Nothing for a house with the girl he promised to marry when he returns. Nothing for the children they want to have, nothing for a car.
I am in love with the girl he promised to marry.
When he comes home he will have her.
There's nothing I can do about that.
Posted by Call me Lauryn. That's not my name. at 1:46 PM