“Go Niners! Joey, get me a beer!” Papa cheered. The old man forgot his pills again. Joe nodded and turned on the 1981 game for Papa on DVD.
She sat through the black silence. “Why do you do this to yourself?” I took a long pull on my domestic lager. “Gotta care about something.”
Charlotte knew she’d arrived in true Utopia. Printed in white block letters underneath the WELCOME sign was, POPULATION: 1.
A shot rang out in the forest. Birds scattered from the trees like a cloud of noisy ashes. The deer fell bleeding, and the boy became a man.
“Make a wish,” my wife said. “Make love to Mia,” I murmured inaudibly. My wife saw my lips move: “Not aloud! Otherwise it won’t come true.”
Max drained the day’s second bottle of Cabernet into his glass. He tried to ignore the nagging thought he was turning into his own father.