. . . . What a way to go. . . . . With your trousers down.”The daughter's grin was quite open now. But her mother resumed her haughtiness.“We've a...ready told you that he's dead. He's been there for three hours. I've stuck him with this pin 20 times to try and get some reaction.” She pointed to a large safety pin. ”Why did you have to touch him with my mirror?”“I saw it in a movie.”The daughter giggled, even the mother had a smirk.“What a coincidence. I saw a movie where someone used a safety. Woman crying. I don't know about other men, but it always makes me feel like an asshole, even when I didn't do anything at all to cause it. You can't just slap a patch on it, like a leaky pipe."Hey, sweetie," I say, "no way you're ever going to be a mess."She looks up, moves the hand with the Kleenexes in it off to one side a little, and grins. I ask you. She laughs. She cries like a sprinkler system. She grins. Makes mercurial mean something like molasses. I don't know what to do. I smile; why. More

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