A Little To The Left «LATEST»

He nodded, and his hand found hers.

They lived like this for forty-three years.

As a child, I found it absurd. “Why doesn’t Grandpa just leave it alone?” I asked once.

He didn’t do it with malice. It was a quiet, mechanical act, like breathing. He’d shift the remote so it was parallel to the table’s edge, align the glasses exactly north-south, fold the dishcloth into a tighter square, and place the stone precisely one inch to the left of the glasses’ hinge.