When Cody and I first bought our Brooklyn brownstone (not pictured), I had visions: yes, I was a lonely woman in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows, and yes, there were foam curlers in my hair and a menthol cigarette travelling erratically between yellowed fingers and stained mouth. Quiet down up there, I'd yell to no one in particular.
What I hadn't imagined was this:
Hello. Nicole? Hi. It's Charlotte.
Oh, hey Charlotte, how are the digs?
((This is me playing "cool landlady."))
Uhm...pretty good...but something's growing out of the floor.
Something?
Yes, something.
Something living?
It seems to be.
Is it green?
A little.
How very alive our home now seems...
2 comments:
what a fantastic image: leaning out of windows and menthol cigarettes and unpredictable yelling and foam curlers. I could write a whole blog post on foam curlers.
Foam curlers! What, do you think, they actually do to the hair? Curl it?
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