A man makes a wife out of stained sheets and old pillows. Being made from the things of sleep, she immediately dozes off. The man walks over to the window of their second-story bedroom. It’s snowing outside. It’s been snowing for quite some time. The snow nearly reaches the window. The man looks back at his wife. He tries to wake her up but can’t. He’s lonely. He wants to play in the snow. He opens the window and throws himself out, plunging deep into the snow and freezing to death.
The wife wakes up to the frigid air rushing in through the window. She slams it shut and goes back to sleep.
The next morning the dead man strolls into the house. His wife is enjoying a breakfast of sawdust and gasoline.
“You’re dead,” she says, not at all alarmed.
“Yep,” the man says.
“Best get you into the freezer.”
“Yep.”
The man enters the spacious freezer willingly. The wife tosses a case of beer and a television in with him. He stays there for three years.
The woman eventually marries a bed. He likes to sleep as much as she does although, when awake, he is a little lazier than she prefers.
The frozen man leaves the freezer and confronts the woman.
“How could you?” he says.
“You was dead.”
The man bounces on the bed. The bed groans but he doesn’t fight back.
“I’m leavin’!” the man shouts.
“It’s the middle of summer. You’ll melt.”
“Like hell!”
The man bangs the door shut behind him and walks out into the neighborhood street. He heads for the local bar, thinking maybe he can meet another woman who will put him up. It isn’t long before he begins sweating profusely. The sweat doesn’t stop. Embarrassed, he ducks into an alleyway where he slides down a wall and quietly sweats himself into nonexistence.
