Then Jimmey excitedly explained about the panemone. He kept out one of the school books we bought that had a drawing of a Dutch windmill to give them ...n idea of what it was. They were excited that we wouldn’t have to hand pump water or carry it from the stream in buckets once the windmills were working. Originally, I’d envisioned one windmill serving the cave and the cabins I intended to build. A second would provide water to the trees along the eastern ridge, the garden, the chicken coop, and. Moderation, my ass. Same goes for alcohol, apparently. “One sugar for her. Sweet tooth, I’ll take two. Screw the purists. Life is bitter enough as it is. Stir.” A flood of late winter sun bleached the back of my skull. It had a sound to it, not a nice one. Squinting for survival. The neighbor scurried hurryingly from her balcony. After a quick second peak, that is. The sheets crumpled at the foot of the bed. She was laying there like a classical painting. A sleeping Venus. One rosebud nipple. More

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