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PLAUSIBLE by Robert Reed It was a Lullday morning on the brink of winter, a bright and bitterly cold morning, and we were off to watch the Cousins’ parade. But our six-wheel needed fuel and my little sister desperately needed diapers, and that's why we stopped at the gasoline shop where Telomere met Jupiter. It's not there now, I know. But there used to be a shop there. My mother stayed in the warm wagon with “her little angel.” My father said, “Fill us,” to the bull-buddy sitting beside the pump. Then he led me inside the grimy glass building, waving in no particular direction. “Look around,” he said with a voice that meant I could pick something small and maybe he would buy it for me. Maybe. So I started running the aisles, giddy-happy because we were going to the parade and because soon I would have some little treasure that I hadn't expected to own. What I finally decided on was a pack of collector's cards with Lord Dullen on top, wearing his two-brimmed pitching hat, the Blood-bird insignia bright on his black mask. How neat will this be? I thought. But Dad didn't want to buy anything for me. “I only said ‘look around,'” he said. “I wanted to buy some time, you know?” But I didn't understand. Buy time why? “Well,” he confessed, “the sorry fact is that I don't much like parades, and I'm trying to delay the inevitable.” He was laughing as he talked. The woman behind the counter was laughing too. She was wearing |
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