Marriage, houses and true love
“Cloud Waves” by Jeff Wright. June 2, 2016, below Del Cerro Park, Rancho Palos Verdes. Taken after sunset with low clouds over the ocean. Canon 5D MkIII
Honorable mention
by Mori Biener
So I’m entering a better than average house on a bad street in a nice neighborhood. That would be Realtor talk. I’m here on a listing appointment with Gracie, who was referred to me. She’s a very nice lady, short, thin, attractive but I can’t understand half the things she says because she has a very thick accent and she speaks in broken English. But I can tell Gracie is sharp. I sha you hos…I bild it, she says proudly. I follow her as we tour the lower floor and I try not to say, what is that? too many times. The feture fo sal too; is ver spensive, she says. What was that?, I say. It took me three times to understand that the furniture is for sale too. Why are you selling the house? I ask. Husban no good bum get divos, she says. I’m sorry to hear that, I say. I like to think I’m pretty good in divorce situations. I’m quick on my feet and have handled warring parties in the past with aplomb. We go upstairs and she opens the master bedroom double doors. We step into darkness. She turns on the lights. Up pops a man from under the blankets dressed in pj’s, night mask and an attitude. He tears off the mask. Squinting intensely he yells, I sleap why you tun on light?! I freeze. My heart stops. I bring Retor, show bedroom, sell hos, she yells back. I want out in the worst way but I’m frozen. He blurts out a barrage of foreign words and she counters with her own. As she yells, she opens the drapes and points to the balcony. The tour must go on! You go see masa bath now, she tells me excitedly. But I’m frozen! You go! she commands curtly and I unfreeze. I take a quick look and rush out of the bedroom fearing to cast an eye toward the bed. Gracie’s behind me, words unknown to me flinging out of her like poison arrows toward whom I presume is her husband. She slams the door behind her, big breath and slowly turns toward me. I’m at a complete loss for words, red in the face. She apologizes, gives me the listing and I sell the house without ever seeing him again. Gracie handled everything. When the house went into escrow she decided to buy a nicer house where she now lives happily with that very same no good husband she tangled with in that bedroom. Go figure. Sometimes sharing an uncomfortable situation with a stranger can be a bonding experience, which can result in a sale…or two.