Willnot (2016)
“In Willnot, Richard and I sat over a late breakfast of biscuits (late because I had a compound fracture to attend to following an early-morn automobile accident, biscuits because I hadn’t made them in weeks and decided to put an end to Richard’s mawkish complaints) listening to news.
Saturday. The day stretched out ahead of us, Richard remarked, like a sun-shot mesa. This came after he urged me yet again to tell the story of my grandfather pouring blackstrap molasses over the saucer-sized biscu...its served up by my grandmother every morning for sixty-plus years of his life.
“And just what have you been reading, to come up with that?” I asked. He hadn’t lifted it from what was currently on his bedside table, My Life with Pygmies, a collection of comic essays over which he had snorted so terribly that I once took the book away from him and hid it under the clothes hamper.
“I’ll footnote the source later.”
“You’ve gone postmodern on me?”
“We must stir the pot, or the stew will stick and burn.”MoreLess
Saturday. The day stretched out ahead of us, Richard remarked, like a sun-shot mesa. This came after he urged me yet again to tell the story of my grandfather pouring blackstrap molasses over the saucer-sized biscu...its served up by my grandmother every morning for sixty-plus years of his life.
“And just what have you been reading, to come up with that?” I asked. He hadn’t lifted it from what was currently on his bedside table, My Life with Pygmies, a collection of comic essays over which he had snorted so terribly that I once took the book away from him and hid it under the clothes hamper.
“I’ll footnote the source later.”
“You’ve gone postmodern on me?”
“We must stir the pot, or the stew will stick and burn.”MoreLess
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