Tagged (2013)
“His car needed some work on the exhaust system, but he was trying to avoid doing it—“I don’t want the muffler to be worth more than the rest of the car” was how he’d put it.
Then the car came around the corner and into view, rumbled up and stopped, brakes squealing. Oswald popped open the door from the inside—it didn’t open from the outside.
“Good morning,” he sang out.
“Good morning to you too. It’s rare to see you up this early on a weekend.”
“Weekends are the only times I can sleep to my full potential. You know me, always trying to be the best that I can be.”
“So where are we off to?”
“To pick up Julia and then to the art gallery.”
“No, really.”
“Don’t you want to pick up Julia?” he asked.
“Of course I do, but where are we really going after that?”
“We are going to the City Center Art Gallery. Seriously.”
“This new you is a little hard to predict,” I admitted.
“Not really. When you think of me, just think of culture, the arts and perhaps fashion.”
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