Monday, July 18, 2016

Hawk Season Notebook #52



Hawk Season Notebook # 52

Maybe eighteen months old, you sit a highchair, watch a rain-soaked Brittany Spaniel stand on hind legs, its front paws on the kitchen table. Tommy is licking coconut cake batter. Your mother has gone for a long walk. It's just you and Tommy. Cars are gasping uphill on the wet street outside. The room is stone-dark. Outside, but far from where you are, there are ropes over stacked hay bales at the edge of a mowed field. Tommy sits in front of you. He is asking something with his eyes. It is September... room temperature orange juice, vodka, and ice cubes in a squat glass... with a snuffed cigarette.

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