Koiless Again After All These Years
Flavian is back in town and we spent the day golfing. In a fit of jealousy, Rafe pitched Flavian's luggage into my koi pond. Flavian's bags comprised several heavily soiled shirts and a sack of industrial lawn fertilizer, so now my koi are dead. Rafe promised to replace my koi but I'll believe that when I see it. How will he afford koi on a vagrant fogey salary? His trust fund doesn't mature for at least two years and his paintings never sell for more than the price of the frame. At any rate, I'm using the vacant pond to store my winter coats, as the closets are packed to the rafters with the taxidermied wildebeests I received during my brief engagement to that guy from the film Tron.
4 Comments:
I fear for your safety, I fear that Rafe is an untamed beast, I fear that your sweet forgiving nature will come back to bite you on the bottom.
Sure, love triangles are all fun and games -- until someone (in this instance, the koi) gets hurt. I suppose there's a lesson in all this, but suddenly I've become terribly aware of my toenails, and will climb the walls if I don't clip them pronto.
Butterflies could solve this problem, if you could get them on your side. But perhaps it's too late. Monarchs are not entirely to be trusted. Especially the arabaic kind.
Esther, you complete me.
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