Page 30 - Self Talk

Susan and I met when I hired her on a TV shoot in
Denver nearly four decades ago. Fresh out of film school, she was more than willing to schlep gear at meager wages to break into the business. Having once been in the same position myself, I made a point to return the favor whenever I could. It was one of those jobs from hell, but Susan held her own with a crew that always gave newcomers a hard time. That job led to several others, and eventually a friendship that survived her two failed marriages, a move
to San Francisco and now this. The breast cancer we thought she had beaten two years ago had invaded
her brain.
“Here we are,” Margaret whispered half to herself as she maneuvered the car into a narrow driveway. The house was a two-story red brick colonial with dark green shutters. It appeared flawless in every detail from the