Nov/Dec 2017 • Vol. XXXIX No. 6 FictionNovember 1, 2017 |

A Box from the Moon

Our move had been abrupt, and there's a long story behind the short period of time that followed my husband's being disciplined and then transferred. But we found this house in a different suburb, "fully furnished and a stones throw from the local beach." We passed by one summer evening before moving in, as the sun had just begun to set, and I nodded as I looked. At the blackberry bushes gnashing against the fence, at the rutted, muddy driveway reflecting a newly blue sky, at the red front door and its massive brass knocker, a fox with a ring in its teeth. Yes, I said, as he slowed for the turn. Yes, it's fine. At first we felt like guests. I dinged the dining table while pushing in a chair and said sorry to the room. I scrubbed the tub and imagined someone else's grime and piss dripping away with the grayed abrasive. I found curly hairs in forgotten bed linens and in the tassels of some area rugs. But I did come to love it. The actual building, its bricks and wood, its creaky b

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Our move had been abrupt, and there's a long story behind the short period of time that followed my husband's being disciplined and then transferred. But we found this house […]

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