FINALLY I fell asleep after beginning the last short story in WILD CHILD by T C Boyle.
I couldn't believe the phone was ringing downstairs.
It was the nurse who is supposed to come to my home between the hours of 8 and 11.
I was really pissed!
Waking up, I changed into the clothes I'll wear when my blood gets drawn.
Couldn't believe it but there was a goddamn ant crawling on my sheets.
"Nothing else to do," I said, "but pick you up and flush you down."
Done. But it takes 3 times to flush the upstairs toilet.
I have a list of short story ideas for Saturday's group.
One of them is to fantasize what went on in Boyle's childhood. Yes, he knows how to write, but he has a sure sense of cruelty.
Often he uses a 'big word.' I reach over on the bed to Mom's dictionary and look up the word. Very hard as the print is about as big as a pen point.
Sister Ellen and I talked and discussed how life would be if she were still alive. Ellen said Mom knew everything and she was correct.
Ooh, I haven't stopped to look at my new READING ROOM.
Hold on.
Left THE LEMON TABLE stories in there by Julian Barnes.
Can you guess who it might be?
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