“I didn’t know they’d come this late.”
“Your mother?”
“The hummingbirds. Is my mother a they?”
“I thought you said she.”
Son looks out the window.
“Those kids riding around.”
“This doesn’t taste like anything.”
“Tastes like corn.”
“Is it because it was in the refrigerator too long?”
“People eat corn and expect a goddamn strawberry sundae on a Sunday afternoon! It tastes like corn.”
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