Why This Furnace Repair Stayed With Me
Furnace tune-up west of town last fall. A man in his late sixties, living alone in a three-bedroom he built in the nineties when his kids were teenagers. I walked in and the walls were bare. Not the never-got-around-to-it kind of bare. The kind where things used to hang and got taken down. You could see the ghosts: the cleaner rectangle, the nail holes, the pencil mark from the level. Three bedrooms, two doors closed, no pictures anywhere. I did not say anything about it. You learn in this trade not to ask about the obvious thing. About thirty minutes in he offered me a glass of water and…
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