I LOVE MY HUSBAND
Gray is dryer lint, the soft wings of doves, dust bunnies huddled under the bed. Gray is dirty sheets, thunderclouds, tarnished silverware. Gray is granite, statues, concrete. Gray is fading, hard to see, foggy hillsides. Gray is far from blue. 20 Christmas cards are addressed so far and the Christmas newsletter is written. Whew! Progress is being made. A dent in. A bite out of. I just want to note publicly that I married Superman. He’s mine, and you can’t have him. Since we got the keys to the new house last July, even before it was finished, this is...