Victoria Williams: 0100

I said, ‘Our love is one in a hundred.’ He said, ‘A hundred! This does not speak well of your character.’ Then he lit his pipe and stroked his beard just like in the movies. He was 22 years old. Later, in the summer, when I was also 22, I’d gotten used to sitting up by the lamplight waiting for him, sometimes until the moths had settled in my hair. The first sign of him would be the silhouette of his pitchfork passing by the window. Of course by this time our love was one in a hundred and three.