Portraits of a Marriage

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Look, see that man? Wait! turn your head away, look at me, keep talking. I wouldn’t like it if he glanced this way and spotted me; I don’t want him to greet us. Now you can look again … The little squat one there in the fur-collared coat? No, of course not. It’s the tall, pale-faced one in the black overcoat talking to that blond stick of a girl behind the counter. He is just having some candied orange peel wrapped. Strange, he never bought me candied orange peel.

What’s that, dear? … Nothing. Wait, I have to blow my nose.

Has he gone? Tell me when he has gone.

He’s paying now? … Can you see what his wallet looks like? Describe it carefully; I don’t want to look that way. Is it brown crocodile skin? Yes? Oh, I’m so pleased.

Why am I pleased? Just because. Well, yes, of course, I gave him the wallet, for his birthday. Ten years ago. Was I in love with him? … That’s a hard question, dear. Yes, I believe I did love him. Has he gone yet?

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