I'M PREGNANT," said she.
"Oh?" said he.
"And you are..."
"The father, no doubt."
The decision took less than a second. The emotion was suppressed.
"To New York?" said he.
"Whatever's best," said she.
"To New York."
"Probably would be a good kid," said she.
"Yeah," said he.
"That's absurd," thought he, "nobody but nobody gets pregnant anymore."
Said he, flourishing his hand poetically, "The drive to New York is not unpleasant. If one goes at the right time, one may see the sun rise over the upstate hills, dispelling Wordworthianly, the infinite claws of night from the snow."
"Yeah," said she.
"And the best part about the Monsey Clinic is that you don't ever have to go into the city. Take the Tappan Zee Bridge, towards Spring Valley, right at the second light, your first left and you're there...Here, I'll write it out for you."
"Thank you," said she.