It was Mara who made me come to my senses about the spaghetti. She said that I had created a chaos in the kitchen and now I could decipher it and return everything to its rightful place, thus restoring order.
We put back the pasta machine and the clothes hangers. Willie donated ten dozen eggs and thirty pounds of all-purpose flour to a neighborhood food bank at a Presbyterian Church.
Life was calm for the next few days; I swam laps with Willie in the pool. We barbecued hotdogs and hamburgers on the patio. Mara finished painting her orchids. Willie surfed. I fed the feral cat twice. There were no longer eidolons and specters in black ski masks or visits by my now middle-aged identical twin brother from a parallel universe.
However, there were relapses.
YOU ARE READING
BY REASON OF INSANITY by Edward L. Woodyard
General FictionThis seriocomic psychological examination into the mental health of "The Shrink to the Stars," centers on a Beverly Hills forensic psychiatrist who is either driving himself crazy, being driven crazy or both - by either someone, something or both. A...
