I drove out to Bobby’s the following weekend. I’d phoned ahead, just to make sure he was home. There’s no point driving out to the country only to find out he'd left for the city two hours earlier. The day was bright and warm, and the narrow road I followed was covered in patches of mud from where farmers and their tractors left one field and made their way to another. The fields were flat with old stalks of corn looking withered and worn, and endless acres of pumpkin and squash rolling out as far as the horizon. The sky was a pale blue, with high level cirrus clouds giving way to larger, lower level towering cumulus in the distance.
I’ve always liked clouds.
Jen, Bobby’s wife, was also home with the kids. They seldom went anywhere together it seemed, and she tried not to let me see how much it bothered her because she was almost certain Bobby was having an affair. And who could blame him, I thought? They married fresh out of high school. Jennifer was pr…
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