“Life is what you celebrate. All of it. Even its end.”
― Joanne Harris, Chocolat

This years birthday was to be a big thing.
It was a big deal for sweet, little Ling Ling
She would turn six years old, in two days
She wished for a horse, Oh, in so many ways

Each August 15th since 1947, a day of expectant waiting –
Either terror from India’s enemies and frenemies
Or the terror of weather, some natural happening
Or holiday hazards, even hospital tragedies …

Manicotti surveyed the small glade gloomily. He hated confined spaces, especially when they were filled with a bunch of mobsters, and all of them packing heat. He wasn't sure why Don Bigoli had agreed to this meeting, but he didn't trust Don Pizzoccheri and his hoodlums an inch.

“Don Bigoli. You are most welcome.” Don Pizzoccheri, head of the Sorprese family, welcomed his guests. “And Signor Manicotti and Signor Zitoni, you too are most welcome. Its good that we can all get together like this. Like old friends should, hey?”

If I could go back in time it would be on my 12th birthday. At the time, I didn't realize the importance of this birthday. I don't remember anything special about the day. My family struggled to survive. My dad was blind and my mother in more health. Our government money couldn't be wasted on birthday celebrations. We usually celebrated the passing of another year with the comment, "Happy Birthday."

In mid-summer back in 1959.
Ready to give birth anytime.

Dropped off at the hospital's door.
She waddled to the maternity floor.

Suddenly her cry alerted everyone near.
Clearly, her baby was ready to appear.

The knowledge of the universe – that absolute first spark...
The entity comprised within evokes a question mark
t’ward present judgments, future truths and past immortal sins;
all actions, thoughts and world events, profoundly found - within.

         There will always be people who take things to the nth degree however. Even if the nth degree was really just a comfortable third-degree, the comparative difference was simply that noticeable. Take for instance the Sun-Worshipers of the Vanishing Desert*; a small, selective bunch who not so much worship the sun as the name implies, but simply regard it as a rather important thing. More specifically, take note of one Desmond Walks-On-Clouds, who is about to have a large spherical object dropped on his head.

Corny was so excited, he was going on vacation with his family and his best friend Seth was going along too. Seth and Corny had been friends since they were little kids. Seth was about the same height as Corny, but he was thin and wiry with straight black hair, olive black colored eyes and a sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of his nose. Corny’s parents had rented a cabin in Hoppersville for a week. There was a General Store just down the road from the cabin, other than that they were pretty much surrounded by woods. Corny and Seth knew this was going to be the best week as the car turned into the driveway at the cabin.

Sara and Calvin sat at opposite ends of the couch staring blindly at the painting hanging on the wall illuminated only by the flickering light of the candles spread around the room.
“That painting’s crooked,’ mumbled Calvin.
“No, it’s not,” responded Sara flatly.
“Yeah, it is.” Calvin’s voice rose a notch.
“As if you really care.”
“Well, it’s irritating me.”
“It’s been hanging there for a week. Now you care?”
“Never paid much mind to it before, but it’s definitely crooked.”
Calvin sat stoically on the couch as if willing the painting to straighten itself.