Before dawn, a kitchen light casts its dull glare out over the snow. Sense of panic in a dream. In the bank, a large woman hands me my money stapled together in an envelope. I'm pulling my children through the streets on a sled, waiting for the street lamps to come on. I wave and realize I'm alone in my bed, then see her asleep wrapped in some blankets on the floor.
More snow begins to fall.
The bones that remain retain their pain. Robot comedian in an empty casino bar, lights darkened, tells jokes to the empty tables, laugh tracks ghosting back. Seniors in the class alas. As Barbar and his young queen Celeste age and have first triplets and then a fourth child, Arthur, the cousin who may or may not be Celeste's brother, remains permanently an adolescent. The republic of paragraphs.