Here live the things with a pulse — a wife who rearranges the world without notice,
a shop full of devices the keeper cannot operate, an animal named Bartholomew whose
species remains undetermined. A story, told a morning at a time. Begin at the top, or skip ahead to the latest.
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Entry the First · a morning in June
The Rearranged Room
In which the keeper cannot be certain he slept, the furniture has moved in the night,
and a creature called Bartholomew must apparently be fed.
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Entry the Second · a morning in June
The Senior Salesman
In which the keeper is locked out of his own livelihood, cannot recall his password,
and sells a grieving stranger the one thing she actually came for.
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Entry the Third · a morning in May
The Shearing
In which the keeper is sent to load two ewes, attempts to ride one of them into the trailer, and is informed afterward that he did not do it right.
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Entry the Fourth · a morning in June
The Feeding
In which breakfast proves to be a daily charity to a parish of animals, and the keeper eats something that was not, strictly, his.
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Entry the Fifth · a Saturday in June
The Rainbow
In which the keeper learns to read his wife’s whole week in the hum of her vacuum cleaner, and to keep moving lest he be mistaken for upholstery.
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Entry the Sixth · a morning in November
The Specialists
In which a single sneeze summons two warring schools of home medicine — a mother-in-law and a spinster aunt — and the keeper becomes the disputed territory between them.
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Entry the Seventh · an evening in December
The Wheel
In which the tyre has a hole, the change is to take only a moment, and the wheel declines — through two hours and one eight-pound hammer — to come off the car at all.