Later
Innings
|
He fetches in the paper and they spend a while staring at it. "Half a century this week," she says eventually. It takes him a second, but he remembers. "Like I said, we survive."
"Is it is like cancer, then? If you survive long enough, can you call the remission a cure?"
He shrugs. "Maybe it just takes us into later innings. Non-regulation play. Sudden death overtime."
"I never played the game," she reminds him.
"Remember how we used to say goodbye in the seventies? 'Later,' we'd say. As if we didn't know."
|
Later than that
Goodbye
|