CHOP SUEY The same old Chinese ushered us to our seats and handed us a tired fly-dirtied menu. Her eyes were bright and shining. “You remembered.” I smiled at her. Her hand reached across the table toward me. I clasped it and turned it palm upward. “There’s a tall dark man about to come into your life,” I said. She laughed and squeezed my hand. “Wrong colour hair.” Her eyes were suddenly serious. “Danny.” I could feel the laughter fade from me as I looked at her. “Yes, Nellie.” “I hope I’m not dreaming,” she said quickly. “I hope I’m not upstairs in my bed dreaming, because I’ll wake up in the morning and my eyes will be red and my sister will tell me I was crying in my sleep.” I raised her hand and kissed it quickly. “That ought to prove you’re awake.” Her eyes were soft and swimming. “If I’m dreaming, I never want to wake up. I just want to sleep and dream.” Her voice was husky. I was able to smile now. “You’re awake.” Her hand gripped mine tightly.
What do You think about A Stone For Danny Fisher (1952)?
