8 HOLES
Jory loved to draw holes.
He would sit on the windowsill of his apartment, high up on the fourth floor and draw black circles all day. Sure, he drew other things. Knights on their steeds, trampling monsters under their large hooves. Beautiful maidens with monsters as pets. He even drew his mother's cat, Oscar, eating one of the bullies in his second-grade class.
“Nasty,” His mother would say. She would only glance at the drawing of Oscar. Continue to prepare dinner.
He showed it to his father, who never looked up over his gardening magazine. “Well, Jory. You are becoming a wonderful artist, aren't you?” His father would cough, then tap his pipe on the ashtray and return the pipe to his chapped lips.
Jory did not like not being tended to.
He went back to his bedroom, opened
