by Craig Czury
I thought she said hands on the hood of the car and I threw my hands up, but what she was telling me was to take the garlic off the scale and bag it. It’s been a long flood night watch, hydro-cementing the back cellar wall, mopping pools of ground water with my old university sweatshirts. This is where education has taken me, on my hands and knees slopping mud at the stone wall that’s holding up my house at 5 in the morning. I don’t know what tahini is and when I ask the girl at produce she repeats zucchini? There’s some kind of scrambled atmosphere in this hurricane pressure, I just want to go home and char the skin off these gorgeous red peppers over the gas burner of my stove with tongs, the way Sue showed me how garbanzos whip all that good stuff into a creamy guck like the Jersey shore in a blender. That’s a good title I’ll submit to my insurance agent, Hurricane Garbanzo, along with a detailed analysis of how I believe the sump pump works.
2 comments:
I really like this one a lot. "Hurricane Garbanzo" Brilliant. The finishing touch is awesome. What the protag thinks about sending in on the insurance claim.
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