Chapter Fourteen
Old Albert
My wife is out for dinner again with her family.
My old knees just aren’t up to all the hilly climbs day in and day out so I’ve taken a rain check.
She assures me she’ll bring dinner home so I won’t starve.
She’s good like that, my darling wife. I open a bottle of wine, content with time alone in our little apartment with its glimpse of the Douro River.
That’s the beauty of Porto, almost everywhere has a stunning water view.
While I’m alone like this, I fire up the laptop and rub my hands together.
Down the rabbit hole of conspiracy theories I go.
My wife, bless her, frowns upon this bad habit of mine.
Says it shows I’m lacking something bigger in my life.
I’m sure it’s not that at all! I’m not lacking anything in my life.
I’ve got the book club now. Although I know I need to tread carefully there.
Don’t want another nasty incident where my comments get twisted.
Artisanal bread. No such thing! Yet another scam so they can charge three times the price and people just believe it?
Not on my watch. But I’d never say that in front of my wife.
She’s got a thing about the fancy bread. Bless her heart.