"I don't envy you," he said.
"Me neither," I replied.
"Well, just get it over with," he said as he walked off.
I didn't want to do it.
But I knew it wasn't optional.
I walked into the house.
I looked around.
Everything was so neat and tidy.
No dirty dishes in the sink. Nothing on the counters except a set of chicken cannisters and a neatly folded dish towel.
In the living room, the sofa cushions were fluffed up and straight.
The rabbit ears on the old TV set were exactly symmetrical. As if someone had used a tape measure and a protractor.
Upstairs, in the first bedroom...the beds were made. Not military-style, but still flawlessly. Again, pillows fluffed. Blankets folded.
The bathroom was spotless. Like a commercial for a cleaning product hyped by a muscle-bound bald guy with an earring.
I heard voices in the back bedroom.
Quiet voices. Comforting voices. Old voices. Voices that loved each other.
"I don't envy him," I thought I heard a voice say.
"Me neither," I imagined the reply.
I took a few steps and placed my hand on the doorknob.
silently, I turned it.
Created: Feb 28, 2014saintmaker Document Media