Wednesday, August 06, 2003
Herewith, a story I wrote in 1975, and had published in the WCU literary magazine.
It was late morning when I went inside. The young day was unseasonably warm, if only slightly so. It was more the humidity, because the greenness of everything was still obscured by dew. Particularly the smaller shrubs.
I asked, "Hey, what time is it?"
"Eleven thirty," enunciated my father, hardly moving from his supine position on the sofa.
"I've got quarter after ten," said my mother, sitting next to the doorway where I stood.
It's ten of one," said my younger sister in an annoyed tone.
"Five minutes to nine," declared my oldest brother.
"Don't ask me," put in my twin brother, "I don't give a shit."
One of my older brothers jumped up. "It's three o'clock!"
"Shut up!" yelled another sister. "It's two fifteen."
"No!" retorted somebody. "You're all wrong."
Several fistfights broke out.
"You didn't have to start this," someone screamed at me, "Bastard!"
I went outside again. The night sky was somewhat cloudy, although several stars could be clearly seen. Despite the chilly air, I watched with interest the progress of one cloud against the stars. It had an odd, sort of purplish color.