oh. right. walter. 

oh. right. walter.

(anne chimes in)
His temples were still pounding and today was Sunday. It ached to turn his eyeballs upward (the cabbage leaf did not seem to be helping) towards heaven, towards the sky, towards a tree... even to his slightly-taller-than-himself wife. She had given him a certificate to a time-share in Maui for his 45th. For one week in late March. But she "wasn't planning to go with him" because she "hated the humidity" and "I know I'll just burn to a crisp in that sun". Plus, "Honey, you're such a loner anyway".
Uugh. The 4-legged eager beast at the end of the leash tugged. He'd finally accomplished #1 and was performing #2 in the front yard of an unfamiliar home as the owners drove up, glaring at the dog, the warm
pile, and Walter. Tugging at one of the loose yarns of his bedraggled brown sweater with his teeth, Walter imagined, almost prayed, "How my entire outlook would change if the universe were to somehow provide me, at this very moment, with a plastic bag".