Mr. Anderson and I understand each other. One thing we agree on: his wife is wonderful.
“She kicks me out of bed these days,” he says. We laugh. “I really don’t blame her,” I say. We stand there looking at each other’s profiles, waiting for something to happen.
I sleep in their living room, listening to the confusing rain. Mr Anderson sleeps with four pillows. His blonde handlebar mustache glows in the dark. “Which part of dear Mr. Anderson do you like best?” I ask his wife. “Let’s each take one side, and pull, and see what breaks,” she says.
Photo Credit: Beret Olsen
I love the ending. ❤️
Brilliant …