Eleven – Father andSon
After lunch I retreat to my bedroom. Thetangled robes of blankets and sheets are unraveled.
Strangers in paradise must clean up theiract.
Embarrassed by dreams I’ve had the nightbefore I am pleased my sheets are now dry. I search to hideevidence. I find a faint mark. The pattern is almost paisley. Thewide end of a necktie.
I remake my bed and reverse the offendingsheet.
Won’t have to wash anything. I’m spared anexplanation. Must avoid sticky situations. There are enough of themalready.
I straighten the woolen blankets over thetop. Hide and seek is over. I plonk myself at my desk with theintention of getting on with my homework. The familiar to and froof the Venetian distracts me. Outdoor sounds fluctuate. Cowfollowed by pig accompanied by dogs. The smell of hop
