Michael Malone - Weebly

"Wounded in foreign places, aha! That's a good
one, Mary!"
Bredforet's trim gray moustache leaped up to his
cheeks in a grin.
"Worst place in the world to be wounded though.
Ha, ha."
His wife pinched the freckled skin on his hand. "I
am going to slap your head off one of these days," she
told him.
"Too late for all of us now, ain't it?" sighed Ramona
as she briskly poured the claret. "Our beds will be the
ones for nurses to sit at now, sit there bored by our
dying, reading romantic trash and dribbling chocolate
candy on our sheets. Then with nothing much
accomplished, down into the dirt we go. With that idiot
Sloan Highwick to sing out a list of insipid virtues
they've decided to pretend we had.
Down they drop us, thunk. Thunk!" She slammed
the crystal top into the decanter.
"Rubbish. You're too cooped up, isn't she, Mary?
You know, Ro, there's nothing the matter with you. I
bet you had that heart attack so you could get that