
- 24
- 0
The Rambling Bard
The roommate is up before I am, watching morning television, a cigarette hanging from his chapped pink lips as he loads the dishwasher. We’re not supposed to smoke in the apartment but he does anyway. I join him on enough occasions that I’m guilty of breaking the rule instead of bending it. Almost a year now he’s been this slouched, hairy, somnolent, depressed man living in my home, barking at the cat in the middle of the night, loud enough to wake me and our upstairs neighbors. The building...