It’s his birthday. It’s George’s birthday. Well was. Yesterday, it was his birthday. 42. He’s 42 years old. And god does he feel it. His wife keeps me young though, Peggy, and the girls. His girls. He’s got two little girls. Little rat bags more like. But he loves them.
Can’t imagine a life without them.
Boiled chocolate cake. Don’t get much better than that. He’d never had one, not till he met Peggy. Didn’t even know that you could do that. George’s Nan used to boil a pudding, which is kind of a cake, but nothing like this. Peggy never puts frosting on it either.
She likes to let the cake speak for itself.
George seems to have it all. A simple life for a simple man. And nothing will change that. But tonight, on his birthday, he will come face to face with the brutal hand of fate and confront the unknown that we all fear…death.