Break apart

A museum is supposed to destroy an artist’s work after his death. The pieces are wooden igloos shaped like wavy jellybeans sitting on the museum’s lush green lawn. Instead of honoring their word, the museum puts them up for sale.

My Dad is helping Aunt Linda move and asks for my help with her bed. We step into an empty second floor bedroom and the bed is already disassembled on the floor. There are words beautifully hand painted on the wood in 60s style lettering.

A housewife is smoking from a one hitter in her front lawn. I’m sitting on the grass between the house and where she is standing. I ask her for a hit. She hands it to me; I inhale deeply and then walk off through the subdivision.