Thousand: Seven Hundred Fifty-Three

to that couch, kept you groggy and TV-addicted. What was she showing you, a baby alligator? a satchel in which she kept universes? Where did she go? She went to feed the cat, or the dog, the parakeet, the goldfish, the snow leopard, the rightful heir to the throne who has been chained in the basement wearing an iron mask, the fire, the long, slow fire, the fire that never goes out. The figure on the steps rises and walks down the path. The gate stands open. You follow her to the gate, saying nothing, walking softly. The hair cut