Michael Malone - Weebly

squirrels. People decided Haig had always been the
outdoors type and had bought the land to shoot at. He
let them think so.
Meanwhile, his modern house sat as unembarrassed
by its incongruity as a Burger King on the moon, serene
in the certainty that the future was on its side, and
eventually so would be Texaco and Kmart.
His house sits and Judith Sorrow Haig sits in it.
There is nothing else to do. The rooms are clean. All the
furniture, which, since she didn't care about furniture,
her husband had purchased by the roomful from places
where it was sold by the floorful, sits in precisely those
arrangements in which the store had chosen to display
it. The kitchenette with sliding doors to a (future) patio.
The dinette/living area with its contemporary cone
fireplace and five-piece matching living module in brown
velveteen. The master bedroom with bath. The family
room, where she is now. It is midnight, and her family
(John—they have no children) is off in Madder cruising
for disorder.
A policeman must keep late hours. So must Mrs.
Haig, because she has difficulty falling asleep and is