Arts
"My connection to Erwin? I don't... I don't have a connection to Erwin, I don't believe" I told Marjorie, who had popped over to borrow a cup of flour in the middle of the day. The timing and framing of her question was suspicious to say the least.... "Josef tells me your'e interested in buying our old cottage, which I... I found that odd. The young couple who lives there now just seem so happy, and I called Elise, she's our agent, and she said the house isn't even on the market. So I just..." Marjorie trailed off. Margaret was off running errands and it felt odd to be alone in the home with Josef Cravendorf's wife. I don't believe we had directly conversed like this before. "Hmm," I tried to gather my thoughts. "Where... You know... I'm not sure how Josef... Could have gotten that idea from.... So... Yes.... Where is Josef right now?" I asked. "Perhaps I should have a quick word with–" "No!" Marjorie shouted. "We mustn't wake him. I mean, he is asleep. He, uh, he sleeps." "Well, yes, certainly. I didn't mean... Don't we all take naps from time to time..." "No," she replied. "This isn't a nap. He sleeps for weeks at a time. And he cannot be awoken. Because, you know, he sleeps. He sleeps for weeks." Marjorie's eyes filled with tears. "And then he doesn't sleep at all." --- Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/myspace/support