Muttering, as he always did, Dennis cursed his eyes. While he was at it, he cursed his cramping, arthritic hands, aching back, and the fact that he perpetually felt like he had to use the bathroom.

His parking lights barely kept him on the road. Squinting around his cataract barely kept the tail lights in view. Hope barely kept hanging on.

“Hmph, I hate Sissy Kinner.“

“Ah, now Joanie, I thought y’all were thick as thieves.“

“Were, Gramps. Were.“

“Now what could possibly come between two such good friends as…oh, I see. Isn’t a boy, is it?“

“Something like that. Look, I don’t want to talk about it.“

Muttering, Dennis resumed his cursing. He cursed himself for not pressing the issue. He cursed Joanie for being such a girl, but immediately redoubled cursing himself for even thinking that. He cursed Sissy but in the same breath blessed her.

But wait! Did the tail lights go right or left? They’d gone rural miles ago, and these old roads could go anywhere, heaven or hell.