Happy Memorial Day, everyone. Excerpt:
Here is an aeroplane
window. Here is a nocturnal airfield. Here is my dry tongue, and the
after-taste of medicine. Here is a pillow, fallen on my lap. "You were
groaning in your sleep like I-Don’t-Know-What!" Jean is strapped in
beside me. We must be departing, not arriving. "Moaning, snoring,
drooling … I had half a mind to disavow all knowledge of you, and ask
for a new seat."
was just …" My dream skates off. Jean was in it, blundering towards
the lip of the quarry on the Malvern Hills. A blizzard had muffled my
warning shouts. "I was just resting my eyes."
My wife says, "Whatever."
"That expression does not suit a woman of your years."