Old Tin Cups

I never thought I would be that kind of woman. The kind you see with a deep permanent wrinkle in between unkempt eyebrows. The kind with shiny & pale skin stretched over a nude and surly face. The kind who doesn’t have time to brush her hair and has hurriedly fixed it precariously above her ears. Supper time rolled around and Luke got home just minutes after I changed out of my pajamas. Over the phone I told him not to say a word about the condition the house was in or to utter a breath about my physical appearance or I would have to shiv him. He is a good man and didn’t really need the warning. But I was feeling like a good shivving and just wanted to give him a heads up.

I think Miles kind of felt the same way.