Jerry had named the cat Nancy, and when Lily asked why Nancy, he shrugged and said, why not, it’s a name.
Her parents were dead, her husband slept with a cat, and she lay on her back, looking at a window behind a curtain and thinking thoughts that came to her randomly. She didn’t pick them, she didn’t invite them, they just came.
APPLIANCES BY TSIPI KELLER 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 08
As in every contemporary home, things hummed and beeped in Lily’s kitchen…