the three of us were watching the funeral on friday. (see how it sounds like old news, already? that’s why they had to make that shit so long and involved, so there would be at least a CHANCE that it might get burnt into our short ass, TV-clipped attention spans.) anyway, don’t tell anyone but I got unexpectedly choked up over nancy. she looked so stricken, like a corpse herself. it reminded me that we all end up alone, even former first ladies.

“oh, sweetheart,” fitz intoned, without bothering to turn away from the screen. “it’s OK. It’s good that yr sensitive. It’ a good thing to see people as people and not just as political party props.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“I don’t know,” sterling said, as she slurped the last bit of her seltzer up with the orange bendy straw she had just bought at the 99 cent store. She crushed the can in her gloved hand and burped quietly before continuing.

“All I can say is that Carter better not kick the bucket any time soon, cuz no one will show up.”



junkyard