She smiled wanly. Mom really worried about paying for me to go to school.
“You sure you’re okay?” she asked. I nodded as the bell sounded from on high, sending me to history.
By the time I made it to my car after school, Daisy was already in the passenger seat.
She’d changed out of the stained shirt she’d been wearing into her red Chuck E. Cheese polo,
and was sitting with her backpack in her lap, drinking a container of school milk.
Daisy was the only person I’d trusted with a key to Harold. Mom didn’t even have her own Harold key, but Daisy did.
“Please do not drink non-clear liquids in Harold,” I told her. “Milk is a clear liquid,” she said.
“Lies,” I answered, and before we set off, I drove Harold over to the front entrance and waited while Daisy threw away her milk.
Maybe you’ve been in love. I mean real love, the kind my grandmother used to describe by quoting the apostle Paul’s First Letter to the Corinthians,
the love that is kind and patient, that does not envy or boast, that beareth all things and believeth all things and endureth all things.
I don’t like to throw the L-word around; it’s too good and rare a feeling to cheapen with overuse.
You can live a good life without ever knowing real love, of the Corinthians variety, but I was fortunate to have found it with Harold.
전체재생
다음페이지
문장검색