Those Unheard Are Sweeter
“Where do you go?” The question echoes in my mind as if sounding through a cavern. It’s annoying as an alarm clock. If I could only swat a snooze button and silence the interruption. “Dear,” my wife says with fading patience, “the Millers drove all this way to meet us, and you’re ignoring them.” I snap out of it and recognize Bailey’s Tabard Inn, the restaurant that my wife, Barbara, and I frequent. At the table sits another couple, Alison and Geoffrey Miller. I work with Geoff at the university. In fact, we share an office because we’re literature professors. He...
Read More