David pulled the car into the driveway just far enough to get the trailer clear of the road.
“Well, here we are,” he said. “It’s nicer inside than it looks, remember. We’ll fix it up a bit, maybe build an addition.”
Kat stared at the house perched partway up the hill. On her first trip out here, when David had still been interviewing for the job, she had expected a quaint log cabin or a classic farm house, maybe even something that looked like a smaller version of the houses on the horse farms they had passed to get here. Nothing like this squat brick . . . cube. It had two stories and a pitched roof, but no porch, barely even a door step. A carport would serve as their garage. She thought back to the house they had left in suburban New Jersey with its dormers and big front porch, and she sighed.
“Tell me again why we’re here,” she said.
"No," David said, "I'm not going to tell you: I'm going to show you. How long have we been married? How many times have I said to you, 'Show, don't tell?'"
Kat sighed again, louder this time, sorry she'd ever seriously thought marriage to an editor could work. She wanted to tell him what she thought about his annoying, pedantic rules; instead she reached into the back seat for the tire iron, realizing it would be much more effective to show him.
Opening: Elissa.....Continuation: Anonymous