Thirty-Six Pages of Bank Receipts and the Chicago Mortgage Transfer I Finally Canceled
The body was five frantic sentences, typed with no proper spacing or line breaks.
The electric company had sent a technician to the house at seven the previous evening to pull the meter.
Margaret had gone out onto the driveway in her slippers to hand him a twenty-dollar bill from her purse, begging him to leave the main breaker on.
The technician shut the meter off regardless.
He told her the total past-due balance on the house account came to seven hundred and forty-two dollars, including the late fees from September and October.
She wrote that the ice in the top freezer drawer had already melted all over the kitchen floorboards.
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