Faded Houses Green

Reading Ulysses in Montana #507

A grudge in the declivity in space and time encountered the elastic hope of a dozen more grudges.

Smudges in the windows to her soul taught Ginger to keep an extra set of sills in the basement where her mother’s advice lay smoldering in the night. George would have swept it all up by then, but his proclivity to pause his basement cleaning for two days during the first days of summer kept the basement in a state of states for longer than Ginger would ever dream possible. George said but I didn’t know it meant that much to you. Ginger said have it your way, George. George checked his proclivities and cut short his best tie. On the way to the cemetery, Ginger said I don’t know what that was all about.

George did not answer, being swallowed up by the grudges in the declivity of space and time and Ginger’s mother’s meatloaf.