I didn’t tell my young bride where I kept my heart. I lied to her. I said that I kept it under the bed cloth. Later I found her embroidering flowers on the quilt. How quaint. I said, “No, my dear, it’s not under the bed cloth. It’s in the–”
“Where, dear husband?”
“It is in the doorway,” I said.
The next thing I knew, she had decorated the door with feathers and fresh flowers, and she’d hung garlands on it.
“Why did you do this?” I asked.
‘I did it to show my love for your heart,’ she said.
Honestly, if I had a heart, I would be moved.