“Hit me again, and I’ll call the police.” Alice thought she nailed him.
“I am the police, you dumb son-of-a bitch.” Leonard knew how to turn a phrase.
Children. Children remember those phrases, embedded like the ABC’s. They see their father with his cop hat and fists hovering over their mother in the apartment and wonder where the good guy went. They spend their lives looking for the good guy.
Alice finally moves forward, but only because Leonard kicks her to the curb. Basically, abandons her when she’s too old to give him the fight he always needs. Leaves her at his mother’s house. Finds another wife. Then another.
Finally dies, begging Alice to come back. “It wasn’t all that bad,” he proclaims, wives later. Well, rather announces as an undisputed amendment in his despicable way. “We had something. We always did.” A liar loves his fairy tales.
Sometimes life offers up justice as reward. Dick appears. A man with seven fingers. World War Two took care of the rest. “Seven’s my lucky number,” he always joked. What he lacked in digits he made up for in mercy.
They met in a bar. Were married in church because city hall had cops.
Twenty years later Dick died from emphysema. But Alice knew some love in her life. The children, well, they finally found the good guy.
— Mugsy
“I am the police, you dumb son-of-a bitch.” Leonard knew how to turn a phrase.
Children. Children remember those phrases, embedded like the ABC’s. They see their father with his cop hat and fists hovering over their mother in the apartment and wonder where the good guy went. They spend their lives looking for the good guy.
Alice finally moves forward, but only because Leonard kicks her to the curb. Basically, abandons her when she’s too old to give him the fight he always needs. Leaves her at his mother’s house. Finds another wife. Then another.
Finally dies, begging Alice to come back. “It wasn’t all that bad,” he proclaims, wives later. Well, rather announces as an undisputed amendment in his despicable way. “We had something. We always did.” A liar loves his fairy tales.
Sometimes life offers up justice as reward. Dick appears. A man with seven fingers. World War Two took care of the rest. “Seven’s my lucky number,” he always joked. What he lacked in digits he made up for in mercy.
They met in a bar. Were married in church because city hall had cops.
Twenty years later Dick died from emphysema. But Alice knew some love in her life. The children, well, they finally found the good guy.
— Mugsy
Not sure what to do when there's two of the same story.... ---Macoff
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