I hadn’t wanted to go but I had to admit that I enjoyed the movie. Adam Sandler even deserved that Oscar nomination.
‘See,’ she said, taking my hand as we left the movie theatre, ‘I told you you’d have fun.’
‘Yes,’ I admitted, ‘you did.’
It was a pleasant summer evening and she suggested a stroll through town. I tried to dissuade her to no avail. Before long we came across a small crowd at the base of a statue to some long forgotten war hero. The old man was there, as he is each Saturday, thumping his bible and threatening the world with fiery damnation.
The onlookers tittered, some made vulgar comments, yet he continued without pause, listing the sins and crimes that had condemned us all if the eyes of God. I tried to tug her away, I wanted to get to her flat and commit some of those sins myself.
‘Poor man,’ she whispered, finally turning away. ‘I feel sorry for him.’
I gave her a kiss on the cheek. I probably should have confessed than he was my father.
Oh well, she’d find out when she came for dinner on Sunday.