MY BROKEN SKIFF
I shelved my catamaran on Tuesday
last week; season's over, and it's leaky
anyway. Always too large for me, we
decided to cut it in half for fair
storage. Then my crazy neighbor came
over, from across the field. He asked
what it was; I said 'My broken skiff.'
-
He'd not heard that before, big sailor
that he is? I think anyway - the stories
always change and now it's running instead
of sailing. This is all, of course, after he'd
already solved the world's problems, in
a financial-system sense, with some big
deal he had going with Saudi Arabia.
-
He just shrugged, and said his shirt factory
in India could use such a thing. I offered it
to him, for free. He threw it back in my face,
doing the limelighter dance from some old
Irish movie, a dance he claimed was taught
to him by Martin Sheen, who called him
-
'Kid.'
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