100 Words About A Good Man
This is called The Good Thief. It’s been published here and at Tuesday Shorts. We lost him recently, but he gave me this and many things.
My grandfather cannot walk now but his arms and back are strong. He wears a v-neck work shirt and a gold and diamond Christ-head and he’s kneeling on the den floor looking for his pills. His forearms are Italian-dark with latent bulldog power, still big from turning Navy mounts and tagging Mitsubishi Zeros by blood-red dots behind their wings. Now he’s moving the recliner and sweating from his nose and steel wool shadow. His chair crashes heavy and Jesus weeps the nose sweat while my daughter crawls behind him and he doesn’t know I see.
Find the red dots, Pop.
