On old form

Jacaszek – Pod Swiatlo

He said he knew when his grandfather died, because he felt a stiff breeze blow through the house. He said to his mother, “That was grandfather, just now.” His mother told him he was an idiot. Wind was wind, and never came from people, even if they were sick and dying. “No,” he told her, “that was definitely him. It had the same temperament. That was a mean old bastard wind, and it felt like it needed a drink.” His grandfather had once, earlier that year, pulled him away from pouring concrete in a neighbor’s backyard to drive him to a bar. “Gerald,” his grandfather said, always using his full first name, “you need to drive me there or I will push you in that concrete.” So he had, against the wishes of his own father, who was there pouring concrete with him. “He just wants to tie one on,” his dad had said. And his grandfather did tie one on, but did so in a way that the grandson never forgot. “That was my grandfather,” he later told his own grandsons, “in that weird wind.”

[BUY Glimmer]

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