“Daisy, you and me, we gotta have ourselves a talk,” the old man said.
Lately, he thought to himself, Daisy wasn’t answering him very often. Usually, she coughed or sputtered or something. These days, not a peep.
“Did you hear me, old girl? Look at me when I’m talking to you,” he shouted. He kicked her in the side.
Still nothing. The old man didn’t understand. She always backtalked him. He had noticed she wasn’t looking so good these days.
Then he heard a voice but it didn’t sound like Daisy. He looked up. His nurse was saying, “Mr. Stevens, it’s time for your supper. Did you hear me? Who was that you were talking to when I came in anyway?”