My husband made his first million in mortuaries. "Everybody dies, Ruby," he told me. "You can't just leave them on the sofa." One night, he was eating a three-pound lobster and he had a stroke and with it a revelation. Self-storage. That was the future. The two businesses are surprisingly similar when you think about it — a place to put the things you'll never use again.
Each character in this tale is going to be represented by a different instrument in the orchestra. For instance, the bird will be played by the flute, like this. Here's the duck, played by the oboe. The cat, by the clarinet. The bassoon will represent grandfather. The blast of the hunter’s shotguns played by the kettle drums. The wolf by the French horns. And Peter, by the strings. Are you sitting comfortably? Good. Then I'll begin.