Shingles and Betrayals
Today, the roofers realized they had the wrong color shingle. It was the wrong color because I had said, oh yes, that is the same shade as the old shingle. But it was not. And it does not match. All of which means that we will have the roofers here a few more days. But since they are actually not roofers but our friends, that is fine with me. They cut down on the writing loneliness. I like hearing them stomp around over my head. And, I like hearing them talk. I can’t quite make out what they are saying, but it is loud and good-humored and therefore perfect.
Meanwhile, I sat at my desk, describing Mary at her desk, where she was consoling herself after a painful break up by writing a novel about a world where women friendships heal all ills and the men, handsome and swashbuckling though they are, cause disasters that the women must rescue one another from. What I like best about the novel is how it ends with the unmarried woman, Fanny. She is the one to emulate, Mary says. She is the one who will change the world.
What a good novel to write immediately after being betrayed by a man.