The Sperm Donor’s Daughter And Other Tales Of Modern Family - Plot & Excerpts
Wood smoke chugs from the chimneys without making a difference to the sky: gray, gone gray, all gray. Every leaf has fallen from the apple tree. Clusters of apples cling close to the trunk, and the brown of the branches quivers like a violin next to a young girl’s cheek. Blots of brightness held aloft, another smarter of color rotting on the ground. I fill my pockets, a woman no longer young, looking like someone’s wife except she isn’t someone’s wife and for her it’s twilight not suppertime and she’s alone on a road on an island floating in a sea, it doesn’t matter where, it’s all one sea and somewhere there is another woman, her mother, bundled and walking alone. I polish the apples with my muffler, readying in my mind the wooden bowl where I will make the colors sing the image in refrain. It sings now still, this song for my brother, strains of a violin aching like tree limbs in the wind. The moon when she comes is not kind. She takes a shaving off the landscape with the lens of her eye.
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