Ken and Milly both sat down on the Usual
Couch, an innocuous blue, in a material that was
a blend of god knows what. They sat right next
to one another the way they always did. Both
of them were smoking. Their bodies didn’t touch.
A coffee table with a glass top and steel legs was right
in front of them. The usual two dishes of individually wrapped
mint hard candies and mixed nuts were in the middle of the table,
easy to reach. Ken was not a talker. Not ever. More a presence,
one of those men who was right there. Who was this man
Milly wondered to herself who she thought she knew so well.
OK she said. Now tell me. She didn’t feel as mad
as she had at the police station. What in the world
Did You Do?