The Day of Nothing
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
As far as Collette was concerned, nothing interesting had ever happened on November 27th. And for 2007, it appeared to be a repeat.
“What should I bring back for you from Israel?” Collette asked OLeif that morning.
“A donkey,” OLeif’s eyes grew wide, like a child at Christmas. “A real one.”
Collette pictured a donkey tied down to the top of an airliner, braying into the cold January wind, icicles hanging from its nose. She would find something smaller and more legal to bring back to the boys from the Middle East.
It was time to pull out the Christmas music. Collette introduced Puck to his first festive tunes. Although the bright blue sky and oak leaves outside weren’t exactly merry. Nothing of the yuletide about leftover birds’ nests in bare branches.
Puck didn’t mind about the weather. What did he care when he had every piece of furniture in the house at his beck and call for makeshift chew toys?
Collette cracked open the old journal from 1999. Funny despite how many life changes had occurred, little had really changed in eight years. She was the same old Collette even after all that time. All those journals later.
By the late afternoon while Puck chewed on rubber spatula tips, the sky began to glow like a lamp, covered in gold clouds.