Okay, I just have to say that a fox is screeching really scarily as I write this intro and upsetting Louie the loaner dog.
Thank you Friday Fictioneers for keeping me out of trouble.
Nevertheless we carry on.
You are my sister.
From my first memory to 21 I semi-trusted you. I respected you. I even thought, sometimes, I loved you although you were as disparate from me as a penguin and canary.
You tossed that in the toilet with the first man you met.
“Rachel? My little sister? No significance.”
I heard your words the other day repeated by your girlfriend, not your boyfriend.
It occurred before my book reading.
I shrugged, lit a cigarette, which I seldom do anymore.
Life is short.
A shot of bourbon.
My words rang true.
Sascha Darlington 12/4/2017