Why Is The Hall Floor Rug On Your Bed?
The Slow Erosion of My Husband’s Mind
I am standing in front of the kitchen sink watching a woodchuck through a drain-streaked window when my husband appears.
“Did you remove the rat I shot earlier? I can’t see it,” says he peering over my shoulder into the rainy backyard. My husband keeps a gun leaning against the wall in the first floor…