Thursday, June 13, 2013

Sneak peek

"My dad crushes the last of the temporary cage he bought with the last bills from his pawned watch – it was a gift from a daughter outside of his second wedlock. He put the crystalline serving on a roughly used sliver of tin foil, deliberate amount to taste. The eyeballs roll back into the back of his head like a billiard ball in a counter-revolution. It hits with a wick thud as it sinks into the corner pocket. Well-sighted and carefully positioned. He wakes up only to discover he slept like homeless person on the concrete. The bed was just a few steps away. His greatest success is that his children never saw him do that. This is just a dramatization. He lives a highlight reel written for him by his frustrations and disgust. It was the perfect script. He could have been a far better writer than I – he’d have had a ton of material to work on. I write this in good faith that my imagination may chip his reality even with just a slight tink. I hate myself for judging his apparent “weak character.” 


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