The responsible hedonist regards time. Her flukes, her slight & companion. Why press onward? She blinks, she waits. The house and its things populate the day but not the year. Fridge full of rot & guilt.
In the dream, which wasn’t a sex dream, but a companionship dream, his face was a little dirty. Just enough to suggest a boy, unawares.
There was no funeral. No set date. But there they are with dry skin and crackling parts. The anger got the best of her but the best of her wasn’t all. The best is a big gleaming wooden table. All the objects they could have left and –
The charming men in the robbery dream represented them both, I suppose. Cheery, then in cahoots, then dead.
