Scenario 3 (excerpt 7)
....and for a moment, the protagonist imagines his esophagus is a rubber tube, as he glances at the garden hose curving around the side of the patio, even as he chokes a bit on the ceviche while blathering wittily. His dabbling in sarcastic repartee is designed to unmask her vituperative, but hidden, attitudes. She gesticulates like a graceful dowager as she describes the absent host's hospitalization after his slapdash encounter with the antique replica. "Hallelujah!" cries an unnamed, obese guest, as he belly-flops into the pool -- a joyous leviathan. The protagonist becomes bored with her anecdote and finds himself staring at the empty birdcage inside the house through the open window -- and at a mysterious object on the table beyond it. A checkbook? A blood-stained checkbook? More guests arrive: a paraprofessional and a seminarian. Cheery suburban greetings all around. Then, quite suddenly, a black cumulonimbus obscures the sun....
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
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