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"The Last Chapter (Sort Of A Story)"
(Today we're having a sneak preview:
The last chapter of my new book "A Bird In My Hand".
Please don't tell anybody how it comes out.
It would spoil it for them.
I'm only good at writing last chapters,
so if you are interested in writing about 123 chapters
to put in front of it,
let me know.
It should contain a lot of snappy sex, violence,
and bad words.)
* * *
CHAPTER 124: THE CONCLUSION.
"They didn't believe me when I said I was pregnant",
he complained, slamming his right fist into his right palm!
"My God, Marcus", exclaimed his lawyer, F.Lee Fossnock!
They found you innocent of treason, arson,
AND that thing with the duck!"
The nine men and three women
filed wearily from the jury box.
The spectators were almost gone.
"You're right, F.Lee. It's just that..."
He noticed the lone figure of a woman dressed in black,
silhouetted in the doorway of the now empty courtroom.
"Could it possibly be Lydia?", wondered Marcus Birdfern.
Their eyes met and they began to run toward each other,
almost in slow motion!
They met and whirled in each other's arms!
He cracked his funnybone on the back of a chair,
but didn't let on.
"So you're free, Marcus. What are you going to do now?",
she asked in Ukrainian, for no apparent reason.
"I don't know.
I guess I'll have to give back the gold sequin evening squirrel", he said,
crossing his eyes thoughtfully.
The gypsy's ravings had all come true.
Far across the square
he could see his mother running toward him on one knee.
She'd run that way ever since the accident.
He no longer felt guilty about it.
Overhead a 747 fought for altitude.
He looked up and waved.
It waved back.
Marcus' kid brother Buddy, home from the war now,
joined them on the courthouse steps.
"Dad's quit drinking", he said to nobody in particular.
He said that all the time.
That's how he got out of the army.
As the sun sank red in the western sky,
the three survivors surveyed the charred remains
of the Acme 24 Hour Windmill.
"That sure was funny about Hillary Clinton",
and they all laughed like they'd never laughed before.
"Dad's quit drinking", said Buddy.
* * *
(I've done the hard part. You just write the rest.)
Copyright © May 25, 2001 by Jack Blanchard. All rights reserved.