At Eleven, She Moved In. At Six, I Changed The Locks.

there was no point bringing it up early.

A leak under the sink.

A loan to a friend.

A lunch with his ex-wife, back when she was still alive and making his life hell by installments.

Always smaller in the telling.

By midnight, after I stripped the guest bed myself because nobody had apparently planned that far, I sat in my office with those three pages and continue reading …