People are always telling me that my work is too dark. So I've put up this sunnier story, but even it has a shadow, as its original publisher – a fine Atlantic Canadian literary magazine called the Gaspereau Review – is no longer in business. ---------------- It was a simple enough thing and that thing was simply this: Edmund Kelley was a gentleman. Of course his mom called him her 'little gentleman', as in 'Oh Edmund, you are my perfect little gentleman,' which did seem to hold to a certain logic that these type of things often follow, considering her affection for him and the fact that he was, after all, only ten years old. Still, Edmund himself was not particularly fond of the diminutive aspect of that title. Gentleman was enough; gentleman summed up the whole thing rather nicely, thank you. He was definitely a more refined version of your average child. He lived in a state of perpetual Sunday m
Draw things, paint things, write things, make things.
"Do more stuff!"
ReplyDeleteMan, if I had a nickle...
;-)
Oh, boo hoo. This is you: "Oh boo hoo. I live in a lovely house with the most wonderful woman in the world, who is carrying my child. I am rich enough to hire someone to go up on the roof and fix my lovely house. My child will have her own, pretty bedroom. I have a pretty backyard, in the city. The grass is too long, but it's pretty, green grass, surrounded by flowers and bushes and trees. And a privacy fence." Gosh, it's quite the hell you're living through. Now come on and finish up all the work you didn't get to this weekend.
ReplyDeleteIs there a husband-equivalent for the Kids Help Phone? Or do I have to stick with Al-Anon?
ReplyDeleteMyles is back up on the roof, Mr Rich Man. Doing work for you. (Oh boo hoo!) Oh yeah, and your wife is shuffing her schedule around, making it possible for the roof to get fixed, the washing machine to get fixed, all of your money to get organized, etc etc. Must be nice having a wife! (I'd LOVE to have a wife.)
ReplyDelete