Four Attachments

The pleasure of things you keep.

Raft

One day on Fire Island, my husband and I were carried out to sea on a rubber raft. I had been lying on the raft, and Bruce had been holding onto it, when suddenly he couldn’t feel the sand under his feet and a swift current took us. I sat up. I was twenty, and Bruce was twenty-two. The beach looked far away. The people were specks. There were no lif…