APB-SAL is a blog about education, science, science education, fiction, science fiction, literature, literary stories, poetry, and anything else that strikes the blogger's fancy. NOTE: This blog interrogates art. It rarely make moral proclamations. For that attend the church or politician of your choice. This blog concerns aesthetics, not propaganda. Consider this as interviews with books where the interviewer presents interviewees, so you get what you need to do your own thinking.
"A week before Christmas, my father left the milk jar for me to skim off the fog-colored fat. I found his boot prints in the ice kicked out of the goats’ water pan."Understandably, the narrator's mother responds with venom to the supposedly time-travelling father:
"My mother accused him of staging a time-travel triumph to make us admire him while we grieved his absence, instead of doing what we should be doing–growing bitter."The daughter, on the other hand, is fascinated by the objects that disappear, cataloging them, leaving questions behind to which the father leaves inscrutable replies.
"Death’s smile blossomed into a rare laugh that set the skeletons of mice to dancing within the walls, while a rotting dog in the alley outside staggered to its feet and trotted into the marketplace."
