Heart

Implode: A Serial

Chapter Fifty Three

“Take my hand. My heart hurts.”

“We were ‘good enough’ — in the eyes of the social workers.”

“Good enough?”

“Yup. An old friend told me.”

“Who?”

“I can’t tell you that. J – . She used to be a friend”, I confided in her once in a moment of weakness. A bit out of character. But there you are. We were better than good enough, though. We were bloody brilliant. We were great parents.”

“That’s better. I was getting worried there for a moment when you wrote that line about driving.”

“Was that me? Are you thinking of a different character? I am flattered you were paying attention and remembered something of my story.”

“Thank you. I’m your only reader. At least, I was for a couple of weeks.”

“You didn’t tell me. It took me a while to cotton on.”

“I made up a name and followed you. Do you think that was wrong of me?”

“Not really. All the World’s, a stage, and we are merely players, or something of that ilk. Anyway, I put you in my story.”

“Don’t you have to reference that last quote from Shakespeare?”