He was in a rocking chair by the window, smoking his pipe, wearing a flannel shirt and his boots and Stetson, the window opened high, even though the weather was cold and the heat was escaping the room. The woman next door, who was young and strong and had large breasts and upper arms the size of hams, was hanging wash. I pushed the window down. “Have you thought about finding a lady friend your own age?” I said. “Who wants a ninety-year-old lady friend?” he replied.
