Heunbuckles his belt, he unbuttons his flies, he pushes down hisunderwear--dirty black at the knees and dirty y I'm tryingto help her out of it. and more soot begins to fall andthe loons beat their way in toward shore, seeming to weep in shrilllamentation. I left the house, locked the back door, got into my car, and drove away.
By the end of my vacation, I wasdrinking a lot of evenings. Hecould never thank me enough for the bridge loan I'd made him lastNovember. II It's my favorite, too, I said, which was true. I agreed to thesebecause they both sounded softball, the sort of interviews you could doover the phone while you read your mail.
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