Martha was like, "wow", and Tucker would come in and lay rail, stop to eat a biscuit, then commence back to laying rail. Sean was half-asleep on the cell phone, still managing an intelligible word now and then, but with a trail of drool down his chin.
I was asking Rhiannon, "it gonna be a good day tomorrow?" to which she would say, "just keep smiling", almost like I could will it so if I kept a positive attitude.
"Stocks were down", she'd say.
"Good time to buy some" I'd say. Because you buy low, always, and sell dear. Like my cousin, shopping at Bi-Lo and eating deer.
I brook not what's not brooked at me, like, but to presume and make the world put off its orbit, stopping the world the wave of a hand, the digital Magneto. Like when Laura wears a sleeveless top, I'm thinking, I walk shoe-less in the grass, I'm gonna get my toes wet.
Meanwhile, the Joker and his gang had a ship load of toilet paper, and the gang was all celebrating, thinking they could get straight behind such a score, but there was old Joker, lighting his match, about to set it all off. See, he was some sort of new-fangled communist villain, who didn't pay his workers with money most of the time.
I looked over at the baby, who was still awake, watching Scair-peon with me, and I could see, in the tyke's eyes, a horrid reflection of the burning toilet paper, and thought: Sam Hain, an emblem of the lost future, the inevitability of fate, samnombulsim, and the kings from the sky.
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