WHILE YET THE
CHANDELIER WAS
STILL FALLING
I basked in the sunlight a little to long. It was,
once more, the Fourth of July. We'd done nothing
all day. Two men from the boathouse were just
hanging around. The whippoorwill-solace of the
darkening sky meant that the new breeze I was
feeling was bringing in rain. And hallelujah for
that. The running of water was all I could hear.
-
Two steps back, the kids were playing with a
bicycle that had no wheels. How strange was
all that, I thought to myself, how stranger
than that could anything be?
I basked in the sunlight a little to long. It was,
once more, the Fourth of July. We'd done nothing
all day. Two men from the boathouse were just
hanging around. The whippoorwill-solace of the
darkening sky meant that the new breeze I was
feeling was bringing in rain. And hallelujah for
that. The running of water was all I could hear.
-
Two steps back, the kids were playing with a
bicycle that had no wheels. How strange was
all that, I thought to myself, how stranger
than that could anything be?
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