much was true, and tall like everyone so far. The one woman with the tray seemed under the spell of a sole graying, much like a lone cloud on a bright, blue day. Also, she could not stop moving, seeming unable to stand in one spot for more than a second; at will, showing up here, coming out there. Then—at once, “It’s the W ELCOME breakfast, number one—thousand ,” one of the women said, “And the goodbye…” said the other.
“Well, thank you ladies for breakfast.”
“It’s a pleasure,” one said, “And a sorrow…” followed the other.
On they went, standing, staring. Perhaps hoping to get a glimpse into a soul. It would amuse the facts if they were to leave right about now. “Okay, ladies. I need to get up now . Please find the door.”
“Okay, sorry,” said one, “And glad…” the other noted.
Now the two women, one outwardly a tad scuffed, the other following, took the tray of food and hurried out the front door. After it, the door that is, closed, Alex drew a smirk—mumbling, “Thank god.” He and morning were as a rule, best enemies, and people and mornings, well—oil and water.
The coffee maker calling out with sweet siren song; now that’s different. Alex , it said, I’m waiting . This was morning fuel. For years serving to bring back full, waking consciousness.
Coolly, he tossed in a filter, adding some coffee grinds, and pressing brew . As he waited, eying from the window chair, he saw an alluring woman opposite him, naked, flat—clearly not minding in the least. Then—he got up, disrobed, and went to shower.
After a shower, Alex, still wet, put on a sweat suit and returned to the kitchen where a fully brewed pot of coffee now waited. With that, he poured a regular sized cup and went out on the porch to enjoy the morning.
T HE M ORNING A IR S EEMED B RIEF, low hanging clouds drifting by, creating a light mist; adding to an already damp air. A knock at the door stirred Alex from thought. Please don’t let it be the twins . He opened the door to find Don standing, fidgeting—acting as if keen to go somewhere, now .
“Alex……hello.”
“Hello.” Alex said in a cool, dramatic tone.
“I’ve come to take you to the welcoming party.”
“Party?”
“Yes, party. Today is the day.”
“What day?”
“Not what day, the day, number one—thousand.”
“I see .”
“Well, don’t just stand there. Get dressed and let’s go.”
Warily, Alex went to the bedroom and took out a shirt, jacket, and pair of slacks from the closet. Perhaps this was a matter of customary presentation. Maybe manner. Anyway, shirt, jacket and slacks it was.
Meanwhile, Don waited in the living room, tapping a finger excitedly on a chessboard while Alex finished dressing. Afterward, Alex—now smiling as if pistol held to head— eagerly followed Don to the party.
From a distance, Alex could see a crowd gathering in the old churchyard. The multitudes. It must be all Longport’s residents.
“Everyone’s attending.” Don added.
“All because I’m one—thousand?” Alex said.
“Yes. Besides, what else is there to do?”
“Uhhh……take in some peace and quiet.”
“Come on Alex , add to it. After all, a number is an event.”
Maybe he should take the event and this place more seriously. Could be the residents mean well, and they do seem nice. No. Alex was not here for that. But he’s new, so best not to rile everyone before getting to know them.
Alex and Don kept on the path to the old churchyard—twisting and turning until finally—they arrived. The twins were the first to greet Alex, one saying, “Hello Alex,” while the other replied, “And goodbye…”
“We’ve met, right?” Alex said with a dry air.
“This morning silly,” one said, “And witty…” said two.
“ Breakfast ?”
“We thought it would please you,” retorted one, “And annoy…” said the likeness.
Now Alex—no stranger to looking at, into, and over—chancing some wine
“Well, thank you ladies for breakfast.”
“It’s a pleasure,” one said, “And a sorrow…” followed the other.
On they went, standing, staring. Perhaps hoping to get a glimpse into a soul. It would amuse the facts if they were to leave right about now. “Okay, ladies. I need to get up now . Please find the door.”
“Okay, sorry,” said one, “And glad…” the other noted.
Now the two women, one outwardly a tad scuffed, the other following, took the tray of food and hurried out the front door. After it, the door that is, closed, Alex drew a smirk—mumbling, “Thank god.” He and morning were as a rule, best enemies, and people and mornings, well—oil and water.
The coffee maker calling out with sweet siren song; now that’s different. Alex , it said, I’m waiting . This was morning fuel. For years serving to bring back full, waking consciousness.
Coolly, he tossed in a filter, adding some coffee grinds, and pressing brew . As he waited, eying from the window chair, he saw an alluring woman opposite him, naked, flat—clearly not minding in the least. Then—he got up, disrobed, and went to shower.
After a shower, Alex, still wet, put on a sweat suit and returned to the kitchen where a fully brewed pot of coffee now waited. With that, he poured a regular sized cup and went out on the porch to enjoy the morning.
T HE M ORNING A IR S EEMED B RIEF, low hanging clouds drifting by, creating a light mist; adding to an already damp air. A knock at the door stirred Alex from thought. Please don’t let it be the twins . He opened the door to find Don standing, fidgeting—acting as if keen to go somewhere, now .
“Alex……hello.”
“Hello.” Alex said in a cool, dramatic tone.
“I’ve come to take you to the welcoming party.”
“Party?”
“Yes, party. Today is the day.”
“What day?”
“Not what day, the day, number one—thousand.”
“I see .”
“Well, don’t just stand there. Get dressed and let’s go.”
Warily, Alex went to the bedroom and took out a shirt, jacket, and pair of slacks from the closet. Perhaps this was a matter of customary presentation. Maybe manner. Anyway, shirt, jacket and slacks it was.
Meanwhile, Don waited in the living room, tapping a finger excitedly on a chessboard while Alex finished dressing. Afterward, Alex—now smiling as if pistol held to head— eagerly followed Don to the party.
From a distance, Alex could see a crowd gathering in the old churchyard. The multitudes. It must be all Longport’s residents.
“Everyone’s attending.” Don added.
“All because I’m one—thousand?” Alex said.
“Yes. Besides, what else is there to do?”
“Uhhh……take in some peace and quiet.”
“Come on Alex , add to it. After all, a number is an event.”
Maybe he should take the event and this place more seriously. Could be the residents mean well, and they do seem nice. No. Alex was not here for that. But he’s new, so best not to rile everyone before getting to know them.
Alex and Don kept on the path to the old churchyard—twisting and turning until finally—they arrived. The twins were the first to greet Alex, one saying, “Hello Alex,” while the other replied, “And goodbye…”
“We’ve met, right?” Alex said with a dry air.
“This morning silly,” one said, “And witty…” said two.
“ Breakfast ?”
“We thought it would please you,” retorted one, “And annoy…” said the likeness.
Now Alex—no stranger to looking at, into, and over—chancing some wine
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