sorting the washing, trying to remember if this is what I signed up for. There are girls out there who would love this. They would fold the corners of the towels over like a daring ankle peeping out beneath a dress and make sure the potpourri in the entrance hall was always fresh. Why didn’t he marry one of them? He comes in glued, again, to his phone. Tatsu with his emails and me with the laundry. Groundhog Day.
Tracy P. liked this
