there was no reason to replace it.
Unfortunately, their definition of “still worked” was extremely generous.
The mattress in the country house had been there for thirty-one years.
It sagged so deeply in the middle that both sides had permanent hollows.
The fabric had faded from age.
There were old stains near one corner.
The whole thing looked like it had recorded every summer, every night, and every year my parents had spent sleeping on it.
I had been trying to convince them to replace it for years.
Every time,
