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July 13, 2007
Lisa sets her purse down on the kitchen table where her husband, Eric, who has blonde hair soft as a newborn babyís, is watching a re-run of The Cosby Show. Listen, Eric, Iím having an emotional affair, she says. Her hands flutter about her chest like birds startled from a tree. He turns off the tv. Okay. Letís talk about it, he says, looking her calmly in the eyes. Lisa had planned reactions to the emotions of fury, sadness, desperation, but not stillness. She slams the table. Iím fucking serious! He presses his fingers together. I know you are.