Crafts

Cora was crafty. She sewed patchwork quilts, baked cupcakes by the cartload, and crocheted like a woman possessed. Her home was furnished with the detail of a doll’s house. Her friends declared it divine.

The one fly in her ointment was her husband. Pleasant enough, dear lumbering Ned, but unforgivably slovenly. Blighting the bathroom with spidery black hairs,
discarding sweaty socks under the bed. When the mood came upon him, and he
clambered grunting atop Cora, she would daydream about curtains. Or, sometimes,
of girls from her junior softball team and the way they’d run across the grass:
laughing, shining.

Photo Credit: Agawia