Remember that neighbor I had who knocked on my door to ask to use my internet because he had killed a deer (on purpose) and when he sliced open the carcass he was wigged out by the worms he found? And he wanted to google the worms? Well, he is long gone, and the couple who followed him, a young man and woman, are – my landlord told me – renting the apartment in the young man’s name in order to maintain the polite fiction that they do not live together because they aren’t getting married till the summer, which means, polite fictions being precisely that, fictions, they are never home, because they live at her house.
Obviously I do not care one way or the other about the polite fiction (though it does seem to me that if they cut the bullshit they could save themselves $600 or so a month in rent – but hey, what do I know) but the advantage for me is that I can play Brahms’s German Requiem at full volume at eleven at night, and I am bothering no one but the deer and the possums. Rural living: it has its advantages. (It also has disadvantages. I drove over/through most of a possum carcass the other night because if I’d swerved to avoid it, I would have hit another car, and besides, it was already dead – but it’s creepy how little sound it makes when you run over a little ex-possum like that. Ugh.)