Doubled down, double take. Laid into the patchwork armchair, sat down. The bird continued to sing while I thought about refreshment. Cola, root beer, ice cubes crackling, splintering, spice. Put in some pepper, tabasco, I was thirsty. Lost my handle on the image and sat staring at the wall. Crushed insides screaming. Figured it was time to get up so I did. Lisa was afraid of birds, don't know why.
My uncle didn't die after his bout with cholera but was hurt, bad. Aunt Clara lived for a while after. Different times I'm told, lot of mutton, billiards. I walked to the fridge and opened it, found some dijon mustard, spread it on rye. Cut some roast beef and placed it there also. Filled the void, finished it quickly, moving on.
The sun was going down when I closed the front door and went out for pizza. Lights shone through the branches, the last of it giving a puddle a milky white hue. The leaves hung over the street like a canopy, sheltering the cars. I was hoping they weren't out of vegetarian and that Mr. Welch's dog would stop barking. I proceeded.
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