Sunday, August 24, 2014

A Born Collector

The first seven years of his life he collected noise, scarletina, measles, abrasions, freckles, the fidgets, curiosity, vitality and dirt.

At the age of eight he collected beetles, spiders, locusts, toads, a hoot owl, a live eel and a remonstrative family.

At ten he collected climbable trees, falls, assorted lumber, the neighbors' ill will, a gang, black eyes, a bicycle, poison ivy, his father's pipe and a sudden nausea.

At twelve he collected a broken leg, a sweetheart and a suspicion that all was not well with the universe.
From thirteen to eighteen he collected other countries, obscure dreams and two prep schools with all appurtenances and adjuncts.

The next four years he collected a college, friendships, autographed champagne bottles, headaches, romantic moments, a heart broken in four places and a certainty that something was wrong with the universe.

From twenty-three to thirty he collected the world. At thirty-one he collected himself, not enough money, and a wife.

A few minutes ago he collected alphabet blocks, parts of mechanical toys, rubber balls, a bear, a duck, a monkey and a dollar watch and piled them in the corner for the night.


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