In Hilma Wolitzer’s short story, “Sundays,” the narrator must coax her depressed husband Howard out of bed every Sunday morning. To cheer him up, they drive after breakfast from Queens to the suburbs to tour model homes. But they would never dream of moving to the suburbs.
I love the Paulie and Howard stories, and I know the feeling of looking down on the suburbs. Nonetheless, I am enthralled by real estate. “I would love to live there,” I exclaim as I pass a Victorian house with a wraparound porch, or a Mid-Century Modern Home from the ’60s. Even if the house is for sale, it is just a fantasy. I’m hooked on real estate ads in print and online. though I have no intention of moving.
Here is the link to the post at Thornfield Hall Redux: