”“Okay.”“Oh just oo--oone more question pleeeeeeeze?” she pleaded.“All right, I guess.”“You gonna order lunch from us again tomorrow?”“Yea, why not?” Garland answered, “I’ll order about the same time.”“Oh great! Thanks!” she squealed excitedly. “That way I can deliver it to you at the end of my shift like today and we can do this again.”“Sounds great,” grunted Garland.Steffani jumped out of bed in her youthful zeal and quickly got dressed. Just before leaving, she kissed Garland on the cheek as he still lay on the bed and she skipped eagerly over to the door and opened it.“See ya tomorrow, preacher man!” and she was out the door.Garland rolled out of bed and grabbed the styrofoam food container. He noticed the food was no longer hot but his appetite was severe by now and he began to eagerly devour the meal.Just then the phone rang. He licked the chicken grease off his finger and picked up the receiver.“Hi Reverend Garland, this is Nancy.”“Hey Nancy,” he answered.“I’ll be over at 6 to. She lost the ability to concentrate on literature or any reading matter at all. In fact, other than weep and flagellate herself with her regrets and despair, all she could do was watch the most mindless and undemanding television programs. No programme was too banal, no show too hackneyed: quiz shows, soap operas, chat shows, and news programmes. She lost all appetite for sex television whose content only served to remind her of what she was missing. She read the mail that arrived with more attention than ever before, though most of it was junk mail, and most of the rest were bills. She lost the appetite to check her e-mails, and the only music she felt inclined to play was as despondent as the mood she felt. It was while she was sitting on the sofa, listening to a requiem, that she heard her doorbell ring. She wasn’t expecting a visitor: in fact, she lived quite some way from her friends and was never used to calls anyway. Her heart began beating in foolish anticipation and hope..
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