“You wont find anything worth taking. What you’re doing is completely pointless. Waste of time.” George says to the two men ransacking his house. It is six pm on a Sunday. These guys have been here for half an hour in search of anything valuable. At least the weather is nice. Not too warm, not too cold. ‘Jacket wearing weather’, as Martha would put it.

“Shut your mouth, old man!” One of the hoodlums spits at George. He and his partner have torn the house to shreds. George sits calmly in his arm chair, hands placed gently on his knees, waiting for these fools to realize that nothing in this cabin is worth taking. Books have been shoved off shelves, lamps have been knocked over. The pictures of George and Martha that once lined the mantle now lay in a broken heap on the floor.

“Watch your step,” George says mockingly. “There’s broken glass.”

George and his wife, Martha, live alone in a cabin in the woods.

“Lets bail, man. This place is s***.” One thief says. It is difficult for George to tell what they look like, seeing as they’re both wearing ski masks.

“I told you that you wouldn’t find anything,” George says to them. “Its just me
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and my wife Martha. Look in the other room. Say hello. We don’t get many visitors………. Oh Martha, dear!” George calls. “We have guests!”

The two men stick their heads in the other room, a slow form of disgust spreading across their faces.

“What the f***?!” One yells. “Man, lets get out of here!”

“Oh, and don’t worry about me calling the police.” George calls to the men as they run. “Martha and I don’t own a phone!”


“Well that was an inconvenience.” says George. It is now seven pm, a full hour and a half later than he and Martha usually eat dinner. But it took George some time to clean up the house after the intruders left.

George goes to get Martha from the other room. He lifts her up to bring her to the dinner table, one hand placed gently on her back, the other under her knees. Martha’s very light these days. He sets her down in her rocking chair, her favorite place to sit.

Morton, the cat, jumps on Martha’s lap and lays down. This does not bother George. Martha used to love this, having Morton sit on her lap. However, it does bother George when Morton tries to use Martha’s leg as a scratching post. George does not like that.

“Martha dear, its almost summer.” George says to Martha. “Would you like to go on vacation? We can go to Hawaii. You’ve always said you wanted to visit Hawaii.” Although in summertime, when its hot out, George has to swat the flies off of Martha’s
face for her. She cant do it herself. The flies like to crawl into her open mouth and out her
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hollow eye sockets. George does not like that either.

“Or maybe Paris. We can visit the Eiffel Tower. Would you like that?”

Martha does not answer.

“Or maybe Australia.”

Martha does not answer.

“Or maybe we will just stay here. Its cozy, isn’t it? You love it here with me, don’t you Martha?”

Martha does not answer.

Martha never answers.

“I love you, dear…”