Soon {Zarry}

Seventeen Stories

"Can you turn the heater on? It's freezing. . ."

"I'm sorry, darling. Here."

"I don't want your jacket; there's a blood stain right there."

". . ."

". . ."

"You're shaking - take it."

"I'm fine now that the heater is on. . . can we stop and walk around for a bit? We've been driving nonstop for eight hours."

". . ."

"Please?"

". . ."

". . ."

"Okay."

". . ."

". . ."

". . . there's no heater out here, or people."

"Give me the damn jacket, and stop smirking."

"I think you'll like where we're going; it's very different from Loringdale."

"Coming from you, it just sounds scary."

". . ."

"Cat got your tongue? Seems like I said something wrong."

"Don't go trying to perform a psychoanalysis on me again."

"Ha, I hardly feel like a psychiatrist anymore; I just feel. . . tired."

"Darling, you sound depressed. I really do hope the change of scenery cheers you up."

"You avoid the real issue at hand as if it doesn't exist - I'm trapped."

"And you remind me everyday. Honestly, it feels like it's part of my routine."

". . ."

". . ."

"We should head back; the sun is nearly gone."

"Scared of the dark?"

"Of course not."

"Watch out, darling!"

"Ah-"

"I've got you."

"Now, let me go."

"But you might trip again."

"Stop smiling, and I'm fine."

"Stubborn as always. . ."

". . ."

". . ."

". . ."

". . ."

". . . did you hear that?"

"Just get in the car."

"Scared?"

"Of course not."

"Why'd you have to turn the heater off?"

"It's an old car, darling, and we're miles away from a gas station."

"It was a rhetorical question."

". . ."

". . ."

"Turn the radio on."

"Classical?"

"Yes."