Posted: Wed Jun 23, 2010 9:31 pm
There was the sound of little feet and everything shifted back again. Neither a father or an architect, I was just another guy losing his mind in his apartment again. This was reassuring: less doubt about my location or intentions. Satisfied, I started supper for my boys who would be home soon. The bungalow was almost tidy enough but my husband was very particular. Moving into the den, the party was getting ugly, three bikers were about to kill for crack. Turning off the insanitizer and putting it back in its box, I wondered what I had been thinking.