charlotte

We join Charlotte, our tragic heroine for this passage, as she begins to dance in front of her television to the tune of a commercial. “Have a very merry Christmas,” she sings along and repeats long after the commercial ends in a cigarette-ravaged voice with much vibrato. And she really means it, with her hands clutched at her chest in sincere good will. Her weight shifting from one foot to the other as she sways drunk beyond belief, Charlotte wishes you a truly wonderful Christmas. But lets not dwell on poor Charlotte, for she never stood a chance. Her determination this morning was something unstoppable, and there she lies now in classic film noir fashion, her lovely (if a little old) figure prostrate in a natural position, her hair dramatically draped over, and here comes the lettuce-green vomit with little white pills inside that will prevent her from ever taking another breath and us from calling her death graceful.