Michael Malone - Weebly

leaped up from the rock where he'd been sitting, staring
at his cigarette, until Mrs. Highwick pelted him in the
back with a fair-sized piece of shale. "My mother,"
explained the rector.
"Ninety-two! Always joking. And talented! She
paints. Every dish in her house has a scene from the
Bible on it beautifully done. And on her walls, Creation,
Exodus, and halfway through to Paradise.
That's why she won't move in with me. Ninetytwo!"
The man snarled and slumped away. "Good-bye
now," called the rector after him. "Careful, Ma. I
wonder if you should try to do hills, you know.
Your walker doesn't seem to be made for them. Let
me help here."
"Who are you? Get away from me. You've got a
stethoscope in that pocket and you want to listen to my
secrets. Nonononononono.
You give me back my womb and my kidney, then
I'll tell you a secret.
Nebuchadnezzar is right in this garden and he's
hanging all the little fishes up to dry. They don't mind,
they're so glad to be here. The secret's not here.