Cheese

By Jeffrey Paolano

“Government cheese’s gone,” Elenor’s squawk contains felicity towards her disheveled housemate of forty years past.

“Eat sump’n else,” counsels the stubbled and toothless Landers prone upon the couch.

“They’s noth’n else,” expounds Elenor graciously.

“Ain’t hungry,” advises Landers.

“I’m hungry, so’ll you be,” counters Elenor.

The malodorous Landers rolls to his feet. Shuffling through the detritus, he gains the loo.

Elenor tips a draught of gin before plumping her fat ass onto a kitchen chair. After an interval, she bellows, “Still with us?”

“Yeah.”

She sighs in consummation upon hearing the reassurance, for she craves the amity Landers provides.

“Still here.”