Go next door to find out what all that hammering is.
"What’s all that hammering?"
You won’t recognize the woman holding the hammer. She moved in last week and she’s divorced.
"Divorced and ready to make up for lost time," she’ll say, the hammer clutched in her soft palms.
You and the divorced woman will make love amongst the unpacked boxes.
"My husband never did it like that," she’ll say. "He was too busy messing around with other women."
You’ll tell her that you understand where she’s coming from, that your wife cheated on you not all that long ago, and that it tore a hole in your heart.
"I guess I might have been getting back at her today," you’ll say. "But now I feel kind of awful."
"Help me unpack," she’ll say.
You’ll start to help her unpack. Eventually you’ll come upon a box of photos and you’ll see a picture of a man you recognize. A man you’ve seen in pictures given to you by the private detective you hired to tail your wife. The man who met your wife in a motel room every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon for fourteen months.
"Wow small world," you’ll say.
"Not so small," the divorced woman will say. "I purposely bought this house next to you. Your wife lured my man away from me. It’s only right that I make love to hers. Didn’t realize all it would take was a little hammering. I should have rented."
Happy That Hammering Day!