Bob:
If you were with me everything
would be all right.
Stanley
That’s quoted from a postcard crucial to a short story published in book of a the same title where a couple of lovers were on a trip. One was significantly older than the other and infected with the virus. In a bit of role reversal, the younger, healthier one of the pair was feeling unwell.
The temporary illness was really just a gimmick to get the story to work, but in the car, prior to all of the dizziness, Owen was playing a travelling game with Arthur. Owen prompts his lover to name something he loves or hates about a topic, then offers the word “love.” Arthur, a bit unsettled says, “Fine. . . . I’m going to tell you something I hate about falling in love. What I really hate is that all those fucking Dionne Warwick songs actually start to make some sense. That drives me crazy more than anything.”
Honestly, I’ve never listened to a Dionne Warwick song. She was a phenomenon well before my time. But all of a sudden, it is a sentiment that I can relate to.
What’s worse is that I doubt he even has a clue. . . .
*Sigh.*
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