Henny Portman wasn’t going to play a part in a skit that wasn’t faithful to reality
The loneliness came hard and fast, like a car approaching in the left lane that suddenly starts honking.
It was often quiet in the Portman house at night. The kids preferred to study at their friends’ homes, and Shuey and Henny didn’t have long, meandering DMCs anymore. But home was still home.
There was noise and conversation and the familiar gurgle of pipes, the groan of cars coming around the poorly planned street with the too-sharp curve a hundred feet from their front porch, the phone ringing for Malka until past midnight.
Sometimes there was even fun. One night just a few weeks ago, Malka had been bored, so she had taken down the Boggle game and circulated around the house looking for people to play with her.
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