Fugue # 55

- I’m bored and angry all the time.
- Yeah, I know.
- No, I mean really angry.

Paul takes the straw out of his mouth and looks at Gene.

- Why?
- You need to ask?
- I mean, I know you’re unhappy about some things - about Emily - but I don’t think you need to be angry.
- I guess you don’t understand love, then, Paul.
- Guess not.
- Right. It doesn’t matter. Can’t change anything right now, so why talk about it.

Gene sits up to look at an anthill.

- I haven’t destroyed myself over her yet. At least there’s that.

Silence again. They both sit now, backs against the haystack, Gene’s knees bent, Paul’s legs folded under him. The shadows lengthen as the sun falls.

- We’re all so strange. Look at Dad. (Anybody’s dad.) Look at the life he’s led - from the side or from a distance. The empty life he’s led. And you think, what could be better? You eat, drink, act properly, and then what?
- I don’t think Dad’s life has been empty, Gene. I don’t think he thinks it has anyway.