By Daniel Handler, Maira Kalman
I'm telling you why we broke up, Ed. I'm writing it during this letter, the entire fact of why it happened.Min eco-friendly and Ed Slaterton are breaking apart, so Min is writing Ed a letter and giving him a field. contained in the field is why they broke up. bottle caps, a film price ticket, a folded word, a field of fits, a protractor, books, a toy truck, a couple of gruesome rings, a comb from a inn room, and each different merchandise amassed over the process a giddy, intimate, heartbreaking courting. merchandise after merchandise is illustrated and accounted for, after which the field, like a female friend, might be dumped.
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Additional resources for Why We Broke Up
I just—” I stopped short at the sight of a pile of clothes, neatly folded, at my feet. Zane. He’d pulled them out of the bag for me so I wouldn’t have to cross the room in a towel and dig through the bag for them. Taking care of me again. Looking to the left, I noticed something else. A ragged but thick phone book wedged under the room door. It wouldn’t keep someone out forever, but maybe long enough for us to get away through the window, assuming we could manage the drop to the ground. Smart.
I could hear a dog barking in the distance. Cars passed with a quiet whush-whush on the road in front of the motel. But nothing closer, nothing in the room. No rustle of fabric, no bare feet slapping against the tile floor. Ariane was quiet, definitely. She’d moved through the forest preserve tonight like a ninja, with me blundering on behind her. But even she couldn’t be completely silent. . I bolted upright. ” No response. . unless she wasn’t here. I looked immediately to the chair in the corner where she’d put her emergency bag.
I said I’m—” “The longer you argue with me, the longer we’re going to stand here,” I said, leaning against the counter. Her fingers tightened on the first-aid kit as if she were contemplating throwing it at my head. ” I gave her a pitiful look. She heaved an irritated sigh. “You’re making this much more difficult than it needs to be,” she snapped, thrusting the first-aid kit at my chest as she pushed past me to sit on the closed lid of the toilet. “I’m really, really good at that,” I said, unperturbed.
Why We Broke Up by Daniel Handler, Maira Kalman