Knife Block

"So then, where is my knife block, and my folding chairs, there was a set of six, remember?" His wife kept asking. "You don't know, Jack? You're the one who did all this, and decided where everything went."

"You mean the house renovation? Getting everything organized? Making the place normal instead of the prior endless chaos? I didn't get much help." Jack seldom speaks, this was a lot. She just stared at him, hardly tempering her contempt- this is how it's been, too long now, neither try anymore to hide the daily scorn.

"Those were things of mine. My aunt Aida gave me that knife block." She was enjoying it now. But, Jack was actually lying. He was pretty sure he took those things out to the alley awhile back, and other junk that was on the patio for maybe years. He just didn't want to hear it. They're gone; he wanted to be gone, too.