A strange one today. After waffling on whether I should go bring framing samples to a man the next town over who telephones and claims he has a Yale degree to frame but cannot drive, I finally decide that I can safely go alone. I did leave the information on my whereabouts on a note for my husband, just in case. I hate to be this way, I never used to be; yet there’s always that chance that what appears to be safe, is not.
I got there, and sure enough, it’s safe. I’m sure the man could not find another framer willing to provide the service without charging (and undercharging on the framing since he sounded like a veteran). But the strange thing is, when he asked me if I lived in Burlington all my life, I told him that no, I was originally from Derby. He said he knew a fellow from Derby, "a Clark, lived on Clark Avenue." The man he was referring to was my neighbor.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology