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November 23, 2007

Friday

Why do I keep getting stuck with the holidays?

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They traveled for Passover until their son was 12 and then they kept him from the city. Riding through the eastern gate he remembered threading crowds outside the temple and his parents in a panic. He'd break bread in town now and hoped they understood.

Later, as the still-young man died outside the city, his mother saw him setting the Sukkot table and playing with his cousin, good sons always searching and this is what they found, her sister's boy cut down for believing what her son saw, her son dying on a dung heap with something like a smile.

Posted by: Christopher Cocca at November 23, 2007 3:02 PM · Permalink

madre de dios.

Posted by: Stacy at November 23, 2007 4:25 PM · Permalink

“Ya in tomarra?” the old man at the counter asked.

“No Bennie, day off!” she sang as she poured his coffee.

Tomorrow was Christmas, her first non-working one in four years. She planned a big sleep-in followed by a walk through Westin Park to admire the ice sculptures.

As she prepared Bennie’s breakfast, her manager walked over. “Listen, Julie can’t work in the morning, I need you to come in.”

He walked away as she slid Bennie his poached egg.

“Ya in tomarra?” the old man repeated.

Hiding her tears she smiled, “Yep, it wouldn’t be Christmas without you Bennie.”

Posted by: Rick at November 23, 2007 6:19 PM · Permalink

No women, no kids. It's what he taught me.

It should've been no women, no kids, no damn holidays.

But when a job needs done, when a target needs cleaned, it doesn't matter if you'd rather be eating turkey or drinking eggnog with your family. Especially if your "family" is a plant in the lawn of a private school.

After the target was cleaned, I took the bottle of wine from his table and brought it back to Leon. Drinking to his namesake, I smiled at how big he was growing. His roots ran deep now, just liked I'd hoped.

Posted by: LJ at November 23, 2007 6:45 PM · Permalink