I Don’t Think So
My mother once told me that a horse ate a needle and thread, which sewed its intestines shut (perfectly, like with stitching). When I asked where she heard this, she replied, “in a book I read”. I asked if the book was fiction. Her answer was seriously haunting.
She said, “Yes, but most of the time fiction is more real than non-fiction”. Another time, she called from her cell and was annoyed. Her landline hadn’t been working for the past six months even though she’d been paying the bill. I called and it rang, she couldn’t hear it. I told her I’d help her troubleshoot.
Got her to check the ringer volume on the cordless, check that it was plugged in, etc. When I asked if the cord was in the wall well, she said, “It is, but the cord is cut”. I was like, “The cord is cut? Like, in half”?
“Yes”, she says. “Well, there’s your problem. Get a new cord”. Long pause, then she tells me, “No, I don’t think that’s it. I’m going to go find a man because a man would probably know”.