The Devil Winds brought a tie dyed sunset, but Henry and I could be found fortifying inside of our drab, bleak haunt. We grew familiar over the course of our clockwork habit, and about a hundred or so drinks ago I’d learned of his Luiseno bloodline. It was Columbus Day, and working out his mood was too compelling to pass up. I let the doubles of house brandy take over: “Henry, you know today is Columbus Day…right?” Henry cracked a small grin, and through his gin dewed wisps of gray whistled “That why I didn’t get my mail today?”
Father took his eyes off the stove for a second (felt like an eternity) and a milky cloud began to form and spread throughout the kitchen. He gestured for me to watch, and began to stir the simmering flux into a steady orbit. The temperature dropped as he let the gas down, and the dish slowly started to turn al dente. This meal was unlike anything he had ever prepared, the perfect mix of ingredients, proportion, timing and luck. After tasting, Father shrank back and admired his masterpiece – he knew it was good, and I was inclined to agree.
i miss music videos and i hate mtv. or as chuck d would say emptyv.
the glass igloos. gee whiz.