Do you know the road from here to there?
The one with the bakery on the left? I think I do-and?
You see, that’s where she died.
She? Tell me.
She was their daughter,
They must be heartbroken.
-And she was her mother:
She must cry herself to sleep every night,
She was entirely too dependent on her;
Oh, she was his wife too, you know?
Then the bastard must be drinking himself to the grave he deserves;
She took that red bus every morning;
I know, I’ve seen her around-
She was a teacher, wasn’t she?
Well, that’s another bunch of hearts she broke.
She went grocery shopping once a month, er-
At the little supermarket round the corner?
Ah, yes, and she owned that damaged cell phone,
The one she kept saying she wanted to replace.
I think she struggled with punctuality: the whole lot of them, I believe
I’ve seen them coming in to church late.
Not a God-fearing family then, I suppose?
Her daughter is pretty
-a little too pretty, I’d say,
I’ve seen her talking to boys at the bus stop.
Care for another drink, mate?
I don’t see why not.