This is Where I Leave You

by Jonathan Tropper

Jen was fucking Wade Boulanger sideways on my bed, on the rumpled Ralph Lauren duvet she’d bought at Nordstrom when we first moved into the house. My life, as I knew it, was over. This is probably as good a time as any to mention that I was holding a large birthday cake.

Whew this made me laugh so hard

“Do you believe in God?” “Not really,” he said. “No.” “Then why do we come here?” He sucked thoughtfully on his Tums tablet and put his arm around me, draping me under his musty woolen prayer shawl, and then shrugged. “I’ve been wrong before,” he said. And that pretty much summed up what theology there was to find in the Foxman home.

That’s the thing about life; everything feels so permanent, but you can disappear in an instant.