Weeks later, she said: 'The guy was about middle-aged. All his things right there in his yard. No lie. We got real pissed and danced. In the driveway. Oh, my God. Don't laugh. He played us these records. Look at this record-player. The old guy gave it to us. And all these crappy records. Will you look at this shit?'

She kept talking. She told everyone. There was more to it, and she was trying to get it talked out. After a time, she quit trying

Autore: Raymond Carver