The house smells of wet dogs and dirty children, and he doesn’t know what she sees in him. She breathes in the air and says, I love history.
Tagged: Home (473)
T 6358
She came into the room, toweling her wet hair. You hurt my face, she told me. I felt for whiskers but had none. Why do you hate me? I asked.
T 6352
I studied my face in the mirror. My fat face. I have a fat fuckin face, I said with disgust. And my wife squeezed my cheek. You do, she said.
T 6346
Then we were on the floor. Crafting our family. We took a shower. I feel indifferent, I admitted. She started to cry. I passed her the soap.
T 6339
The corner store. Becomes a boutique selling fine glassware. And then comes a small hotel. So we move. But not before we buy some glassware.
T 6338
She set out for her jog. I’ll make the frittata! he yelled, just as his friend walked by, and he felt shrinkage, and not for the first time.
T 6337
The dishes fell out of his hands and to the floor and shattered. I don’t suck at everything! he said. She agreed with him. And said nothing.
T 6331
I fell asleep and awoke to find the room a different color. My wife stood nearby, holding a paintbrush. Yesterday it was a hammer, she said.
T 6303
He steps out of the shower and into the unforgiving light of the washroom. She sits on the toilet peeing. He sighs. We’re not sexy, he says.
T 6237
It is the end of a long and miserable day and he orders a pizza and she cuddles next to him, and says, I’m not hungry, and then it is night.
