Sometimes when I am out in the yard and it isn't all burnt out and ugly like it is during this hideously hot weather, I look around for four leaf clovers. I haven't found one in ten years. I know this because I put it in a little frame and dated it and kept it on my dresser for the longest time.
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Putting away books onto shelves once again today, after the big painting job, I got distracted reading a short story, Getting Along, in an old Harlan Ellison compilation called Again Dangerous Visions. I've had the book since high school, and am at the point where it is like I am reading the stories for the first time. It's been awhile. This particular story was about a series of creepy letters found in the bedroom safe of an old bordello and it was very amusing. (I read this stuff while I was in high school?) As I switched positions to keep reading, a slip of paper fell out of the book. All it was said was "4-leaf clover, page 477."
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Hmmm. So I looked. And there it was. A four leaf clover found me.
1 comment:
Isn't that the sweetest little story? Love it.
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