Universe of the Crumpled Fridge
No, he’s not going to go out today. The winter light is golden outside the window, and he stares. It’s light reflected off a building and giving beauty to a flat blue sky. Thin branches of close trees form their traceries without pattern. The UPS guys retrieved the damaged shipment, hauled it out of the basement, the same two who made the delivery. Equally cheerful, first and last. Beginning and end. Call it, universe of the crumpled fridge. (Go back to sleep, Einstein. It’s just him again.) He went out this morning. Out this morning. First thing. After a long nap, it’s best to put some cheese on bread into the micro. It fills the tank. That fridge – he won’t say “poor fridge” – had been serviceable, but the negotiations broke down and now it is somewhere out there. Someone dropped it. Squashed it. Buyers will flock elsewhere. They should have taken his offer. He would have made use of their damaged goods.
As for himself, he will continue to inspect the golden light and perhaps not go out.