THE UNRELIABLE NARRATOR GRUDGINGLY EXPERIENCES EMPATHY
1995
He starts the breakfast conversation off with implications of how superior he is to one of his buddies, who doesn’t take painkillers because he’s too macho. Losing my appetite, I remind him that he himself has said he’s too macho to carry my photo in his wallet. He tries to interrupt, but I continue: the difference is who suffers. In the first case it’s his buddy with a toothache, in the second case it’s me. He’s quiet after that. I leave it there for now, but my thoughts are restless. He’s had two wives, and whether or not he carried their photos in his wallet, there’s evidence they suffered. Times like this my heart goes out to them, and I can see why they took their comfort where they could get it, the first with his buddies, the second in a bottle. Me, I take my comfort in writing little stories about what I don’t say.
2 comments:
Fina, that is a very strong story. Thank you for sharing it.
Wow. Yes, powerful! Is it any more so, having known the characters?
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