Christian Anton Gerard


Desire is no price haggler, so when they found that rust-bucket truck and drove deep into each other, that bed, their hauled bodies, they found that peering-through-for-sale-pages-feeling; the feeling when it’s there: perfect thing and perfect need. Christian Anton Gerard didn’t expect that next morning to wake and wordlessly re-receive his grandfather’s hammer from her, in red satin ribbon, the one given him to build the things of life—a workbench, a book shelf, a house to house a family, or rather, to make his house fit his family. She and Christian Anton Gerard had been like Frost’s “Home Burial” couple. How they’d beat each other with misunderstandings, breaths smaller than the words required to build them— Love, she was saying to Christian Anton Gerard in the giving, is only the history of remodels.