Before I Was Born
I was born into the atomic age. The era of cold war and computers, television and space exploration, teenagers as a phenomenon and rock and roll, gadgetry and equal rights and terrorism and everyone capable of having their fifteen minutes of fame; all of these exploded on the scene during that period and before I was born many of these were considered in the realm of science fiction and imagination. The if-onlies of the first half of the century became yesterday’s news by the end of the second millennium.
The Last Time
Lana says in a soft, dry voice, as if Charlie were in the room with her, “She pretends she doesn’t know it’s me when I call her. She just keeps asking, ‘Who is this? Who is this? Why don’t you leave me alone?’ And I’m not going to give her the satisfaction of answering. I know it drives her crazy that I won’t shout or get mad on the phone. That’s just what she’d like to happen. Me getting all excited like the last time because you’re spending nights over there. She should live so long.” Charlie always comes back to her. They have too much history together.
There he is now, banging again. He must have left his key over at her place. He told Lana he wasn’t coming back again, but she knew he would.
