“Alan, please don’t introduce Alan Junior to superfines now. He’s only eight.”
“Yes, but these Amazon Essential shirtings are made in VietNam, and the cloth chafes Alan Junior’s skin.”
It was the final stitch in the broad, sketchy tapestry of their marriage and devolution.
Brilliantly woven by Mrs. Alan (née Knickerbocker) O’Reilly, who knew how to sew, and with a snip of her knitting scissors, she plucked the thread that held It all Together, and, with it ‘twixt her thumb and forefinger, left the Library, and, not long thereafter, the house, as the tapestry, unraveled, row by row and floated on to the Sea.
