Loneliness and Companionship

But the rabbit repeated softly over and over, "He gonna leave you, ya crazy bastard. He gonna leave ya all alone. He gonna leave ya, crazy bastard."

"If I was alone I could live so easy." His voice was monotonous, had no emphasis. "I could get a job an’ not have no mess."

George raised the gun and his hand shook, and he dropped his hand to the ground again.

"It don’t make no difference," George said, and he fell silent again.

"Never you mind," said Slim. "A guy got to sometimes."

And then from out of Lennie’s head there came a little fat old woman. She wore thick bull’s–eye glasses and she wore a huge gingham apron with pockets, and she was starched and clean.

Slowly, like a terrier who doesn’t want to bring a ball to its master, Lennie approached, drew back, approached again.

Hide in the brush till I come for you.

“I forgot,” Lennie said softly. “I tried not to forget. Honest to God I did, George.”

“Poor bastard,” he said softly, and then went on whistling again.