February 2, 2001

Thinking about my sins.

---------------------

--------------------

Lily comes out and walks right past the door of the storage closet out to the edge of the deck, looking around for me.  "Roger?" she calls.  "Roger, where are you?"

"Back here."

She turns and looks at me in the closet.  "What are you doing in there, Roger?"

I say, "Thinking about my sins," which is a thing my mother always used to say when I was a kid.  She didn't have any sins to think about, of course.

- from a short story titled Cooker, 
by Frederick Barthelme, "The Law of Averages"

 --------------------