Imagine Pt.2
The dinner my wife organised with our neighbors.
The bathroom air is thick with steam when I step out of the shower. I wipe the mirror with the flat of my left hand, which of course only smears the condensation around and leaves big streaks that will earn me a comment later. I’m not thinking about that. I’m not thinking about anything, honestly, except the fact that in fifteen minutes our lovely new neighbors are going to ring the doorbell for the dinner my wife organiz...