"Guess you're just going to have to settle for a bow tie, Carl." Finally he changed his tie and Ann slipped a housecoat over her glowing body and went to the kitchen to start breakfast.As she broke eggs into the frying pan alongside the spitting bacon, Ann could not help but wonder if this was the life she chose or if this was simply her fate. For a moment, she listened to her husband in his study just off the living room rattling his paper and throwing books into his already-over-stuffed briefcase. Turning the bacon with a fork, wincing as it shot a flying speck of burning grease onto her hand, Ann felt the same surging, growing resentment well in her chest as it had for the past two years of marriage to the near middle-aged, professorial husband who had unwittingly ensnared her with security and his intellectualism, qualities she'd always treasured -- until she found out that in the end, it all balances out, and every tidbit of intellectualism seemed to rob the sensual character of. M pushing her and me bringing up the rear. Between the sounds of the smoke detectors and the wailing of fire trucks coming up the street I couldn't tell if Mrs. M was still coughing, but I could see that Mr. M was wracked with a nonstop coughing fit. We had made it almost to the foyer when Mr. M lost his grip on the chair and stumbled to the floor.I crawled up to him. "The door is only a few more feet. Can you make it?" I asked. His answer was to push me past him to the wheelchair."Right ... behind you ... Go!" he gasped.Looking toward the door I saw a red pulsing glow coming through the smoke by the front door, and heard the siren from the fire truck winding down as it pulled to a stop in front of the house. I reached forward with one hand and pushed the back of the wheelchair toward the red glow at the front door with all the strength I could muster. I then crawled after it, with my face to the floor and sucking in what little good air remained. A second mighty shove sent the.
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