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Undercurrents
by Michael C. Keith

These things are as piffle before the wind.

 –– Daisy Ashford


My wife says our house is too ancient and needs better insulation.

Not against the cold, she says, but against the spirit that haunts it.

Since we moved in, winds have blown in through the cracks in the walls.

They have left deep wrinkles and dark age-spots on my skin.

She says they are the toxic breezes of decrepitude and age.

I thought her comment was silly and baseless and told her so.

Today I woke up feeling stiff, rickety, and older than yesterday.

“I’m leaving you for a younger man,” said my spouse, packing her things.

The next day my wrinkles and age spots were gone.

And so was the turbulence.