she remembers that time he decided he had had enough of their broken futon and threw the frame out while she was at work. she came home from work that night and saw the new arrangement—she didn’t have much of a say in it. she didn’t have much of a say in anything at all. they had a mattress for a couch; they would eat on the floor, though she doesn’t remember what as neither of them cooked; they watched the gilmore girls in various states of unrest, or at least that’s what she hoped would keep him home on tuesday nights. she doesn’t remember much about what they did for love or for pleasure. the walls were grimy with smoke tar. she sat and waited in that apartment for hours and for days.