Why don’t you go outside and get some fresh air, Randal? It’s not good to stay indoors and vanish. There was no arguing with Aunt Jane. Of course, the new apparatus had arrived and was dancing, just like fun, in the living room. Each volt, an increment of folded alarm, seemed to grasp my strategic chemicals. The operating instructions however, were written in cubic cruelty. I attached the tiny bits to the grand surfaces, then activated the magneto resistive random access memory. There, I thought, at least that’s taken care of. But no sooner had I smoothed the checkered romance of its audible heroic overload, than Aunt Jane roared from the kitchen, It’s a splendid day for a hasty lifestyle emulation, don’t you think, Randal? Who in their right mind could argue with Aunt Jane? The sun was shrieking, the cat had bolted to the unwitting neighbors, and Jane had the most definitive whistle. I tell you, simply everyone looked up to her. Even the trees.
Appeared in Fall, 2012 sleetmagazine.com
