31. Tee
Tee
T he DVD leaning against my door has me frowning.
“The hell?” I mutter to myself when I read the title from afar. Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid . I pick it up and am even more bewildered by the sound of… shards?
Opening the case, I find the DVD busted into a thousand pieces.
That’s when I remember Butch’s letter.
Me mentioning that I didn’t like Westerns, but that I liked Robert Redford.
My mouth tightens, but though I stalk over to the trash can and I drop it in there, it doesn’t stay there long.
An hour later, I swipe it out.
Thirty minutes later, I dump it back in.
Four hours later, the DVD case is in a box.
With his letters.
The ones I can’t throw out.
With the blue chalcedony.
And the Taihang Mountain Thuja incense cones that were propped outside my door yesterday.
“He’s such a jerkface.”