Face deeply lined with creases of age and grief. Looking at me from what was our room, peering at me from next to what was our bed, inviting me. I wa... sorry for her. I pitied her. I loathed her. My cats sat at my feet, Mickey on the right, Michelle on the left. My lover’s son, Seth, stumbled in. He was chained, hand to hand, foot to foot, feet to waist, hands to waist, eyes covered, mouth taped, smelling of alcohol, trembling of meth, clearly, to me, in the dream, making no progress to. Tuesday worked well: customers were mostly home, their paychecks from the Ford plant cashed. Nighttime worked because I could see easily, but, could not be seen easily. In cold winters I’d crouch by basement windows and warm my hands on the exhaust valve of the clothes dryer. I’d also be able to see many wonderful sights of suburban wives and mothers.I’d approach the front door quietly, and before knocking I’d go to tiptoes and peek into the six small windows that adorned the top of most of the. More

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