They were staring into one another’s eyes.
He took her hand, producing a nervous smile and said, “I like you in your coat with the fur collar.”
She replied, “You do?”
He said, “Yes.”
She said, “That’s nice, dear.”
He said, “It brings out the colour of your eyes.”
She said, “Really?”
He said, “Yes, definitely.”
She said, “But, my eyes are blue.”
He said, “I know.”
She said, “My coat is brown.”
He said, “I know.”
She said, “Well, I can’t see how my brown coat can bring out the colour of my eyes.”
He said, “Why aren’t you wearing it?”
She said, “What, here, do you mean?”
He said, “Yes. You should have it on… for the eyes.”
She said, “But, we’re inside. Why would I have it on in here?”
He said, “For the eyes. Are we having pasta?”
She said, “What?”
He said, “Pasta. Are we having pasta?”
She said, “Sweetheart, you’re not making much sense.”
The doctor comes to the bed. “No. He won’t for a while. Not until the effects of the anaesthesia have worn off.”