The Becketts, Sam and Wife, at Christmas

He opens his gift. Her eyes glisten and a smile seems to play across her lips. It is his favorite shirt, filched from the laundry last night while he slept.
She opens her gift. The right boot of a pair of galoshes, old, scuffed, apparently much-used, a few tablespoonfuls of sand inside the toe, one buckle dented a bit. "Oh, Sam," she murmurs. "It's almost perfect!" She puts the galosh on the table, places the wine inside, and turns to suggest breakfast.
"I love you, darling," he says. "Whatever that means."
They eat.

–December, 2000