The Complete Short Fiction of Charles L. Grant, volume Iv: the Black Carousel
“Stars fall, just like gods, and like fallen gods there’s no sense searching for the site of their graves. There are no craters, no ashes, no explosions that at least give the dying a brilliant moment of satisfaction. A flare. A glance. A pointing finger to mark the trail.
Nothing more.
Nothing after.
People are the same.
Not the geniuses, the truly special, who put the lie to the notion that we’re all created equal; it’s the other one — the one who sits alone on the porch after supper and liste...ns to the neighborhood wind itself down toward sunset, drink or newspaper in one hand, the other on the armrest, holding on; the one who walks the dog and changes the litter box and tunes the car engine and vacuums the carpets and scolds the baby and suddenly stands in the middle of the staircase, momentarily confused, one hand lightly touching a throat, the other on the banister, holding on; the one who can’t figure out where the hell it all went because it was only yesterday — and it had to have been only yesterday, for crying out loud — that he had all his hair and she had no laugh lines and he could sprint a block without losing his breath and she could fit into the dress she wore the night she graduated from college .MoreLess
Nothing more.
Nothing after.
People are the same.
Not the geniuses, the truly special, who put the lie to the notion that we’re all created equal; it’s the other one — the one who sits alone on the porch after supper and liste...ns to the neighborhood wind itself down toward sunset, drink or newspaper in one hand, the other on the armrest, holding on; the one who walks the dog and changes the litter box and tunes the car engine and vacuums the carpets and scolds the baby and suddenly stands in the middle of the staircase, momentarily confused, one hand lightly touching a throat, the other on the banister, holding on; the one who can’t figure out where the hell it all went because it was only yesterday — and it had to have been only yesterday, for crying out loud — that he had all his hair and she had no laugh lines and he could sprint a block without losing his breath and she could fit into the dress she wore the night she graduated from college .MoreLess
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