The Witches of Eastwick

'It's therapy.'

'Close the roof again. I want to feel cozy.'

'And shut off the fucking Schubert.'

'Suppose Darryl comes in.'

'With that hideous kid.'

'Christopher.'

'Let them.'

'Mm. You're strong.'

'My art, it giffs me muskles efen (inter me finger­nails, like.'

'Lexa. How much tequila was in your tea?' 'How late does the supermarket toward Old Wick stay open?'

'I have no idea, I absolutely have stopped going there. If the Superette downtown doesn't have it, we don't eat it.'

'But they have hardly any fresh vegetables and no fresh meat.'

'Nobody notices. All they want are those frozen dinners so they don't have to come to the table and interrupt TV, and hero sandwiches. The onions they slop in! I think it's what made me stop kissing the brats good night.'

'My oldest, it's incredible, nothing but crinkle chips and Pecan Santhes since he was twelve and still he's six foot two, and not a cavity. The dentist says he's never seen such a beautiful mouth.'

'It's the fluoride.'

'I like Schubert. He isn't always after you like Bee­thoven is.' 'Or Mahler.' 'Oh my God, Mahler.' 'He really is monstrously too much.' 'My turn.' 'My turn.'

'Ooh, lovely. You've found the spot.' 'What does it mean when your neck always hurts, and up near your armpits?' 'That's lymph. Cancer.' 'Please, don't even joke.' 'Try menopause.' 'I wouldn't care about that.' 'I look forward to it.'

'You do wonder, sometimes, if being fertile isn't overrated.'

'You hear terrible things about IUDs now.'

'The best subs, funnily enough, are from that supertacky-looking pizza shack at East Beach. But they close October to August. I hear the man and his wife

go to Florida and live with the millionaires in Fort Lauderdale, that's how well they do.'

'That one-eyed man who cooks in a tie-dyed undershirt?'

'I've never been sure if it's really one eye or is he always winking?'

'It's his wife does the pizzas. I wish I knew how she keeps the crusts from getting soggy.'

'I have all this tomato sauce and my children have gone on strike against spaghetti.'

'Give it to Joe to take home.'

'He takes enough home.'

'Well, he leaves you something, too.'

'Don't be coarse.'

'What does he take home?'

'Smells.'

'Memories.'

'Oh. My goodness.'

'Just let yourself float.'

'We're all here.'

'We're right with you.'

'I feel that, 'Jenny said in a voice even smaller and softer than her usual one.

'How very lovely you are.'

'Wouldn't it be funny to be that young again?'

'I can't believe I ever was. It must have been some­body else.'

'Close your eyes. One last nasty piece of grit right here in the corner. There.'

'Wet hair is really the problem, this time of year.'

'The other day my breath froze my scarf right to my face.'

'I'm thinking of getting mine layered. They say the new barber on the other side of Landing Square, in that little long building where they used to sharpen saws, does a wonderful job.'

'On women?'