Mr. McTeague has a coffee with his girlfriend in his kitchen every Sunday morning. Rodney watches from his car, through the kitchen window, as Mr. McTeague reads the Sunday paper, blurting out scraps of news to his girlfriend.
Rodney comes to Mr. McTeague’s residence every Sunday, even though he lives on the opposite side of town. Rodney and Mr. McTeague have a routine, and they seldom deviate.
Mr. McTeague’s girlfriend sips from her coffee mug—hers is teal, bought from some coffee shop, the fancy kind painted by some budding artist. At times, she seems genuinely surprised by current events. Other times, it’s rather obvious she feigns interest. Mr. McTeague sips from a plain white coffee mug, stopping at the third page of the Sunday paper. Continue reading →