Untitled Submission

By Phil Duker

 

 

So there I was, just sitting there, staring at the Heron. Ok, it wasn't a Heron, it was too small, but this thing, this bird was standing on lily pads looking into the water for fish. Hop, hop each time. Each time the lily pads would start to sink, at first slowly, down, down, then when feathers, beak, longings for fish were all about to become sucked into the depths…Hop, hop on to a new pad to restart the wheel.

And I just sat there watching, as if I were on solid ground, as if I were not sinking, "Oh look at the poor Heron sinking into the water, glad my life's not like that." Hop, hop, as if my castle wasn't sinking, as if…No, I haven't heard from Judith, and I don't know where she is.

Maybe Paul was right. Paul Knobbe, who certainly wasn't right when he said I would "get on smashingly" with Amy Bromer, or when he thought that letting Mary Sgletti move in was a good idea. Was I too…

Hop, hop. Oh Christ if only it were that easy. Just pick up and move to the next lily pad. Plenty of fish in the…After seven years, how could she just…

I think I spent all day there watching the Heron save itself each time, as the water rose above my neck.


The Elitists say:

Wow…I think we might have a young Chuck Palahniuk here or maybe a…I guess our only suggestion to Phil would be…
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