Ad Hoc Fiction

Ice Fishing
Once, when I was a kid, I ran out onto the frozen lake near my house and fell through one of the ice fishing holes. Nearly drowned.
    I don’t know why I keep thinking of it.
    My wife and I are getting rid of a lot of stuff, trying to get ready to move. We’ve got old records, a complete dining set, an unused cradle, even a vintage gramophone, all pitched out in the front yard ready for sale. We’re headed back to the city, I got a job waiting for me there. To be honest, things are kind of testy between us lately. She’ll go into the bedroom and watch TV or she’ll be in the kitchen doing dishes. And I’ll talk, and it’s like banging on a cellar door, opening it and finding the steps go down for miles. Nothing but pitch black.