“I don’t know why they remake classics,” I
say, depositing the Netflix envelope. I close the lid and flip up the
flag. “You know, why not just remake crappy movies? Ones that will
benefit from new effects or re-writing?”
She inhales through her nose, loud and
elegant, and we both know that no matter how many flaws I can find in
this remake, she’ll be afraid to go to sleep tonight. It’s not my fault.
Not hers, either, but I can use this. I eye the distance to the edge of
the road. About three steps. When we get far enough from the mailbox, I
shut off my beam.