| OCR Text |
Show Jeffries, Section 3, Page 10 It's okay about my period. And you know the physiology of the thing, a good deal of those blues is just feeling sorry. For while a vast white moon pulled at the gulf, in a dream I gave birth to our son, a twelve-pounder, that's right, hard as a little cannon, an oversized boy, so handsome, so happy. . .and so powerful. . . It was hard to pick a winner. But he was pleased to hear from them, and after he'd taken an hour to write the three of them the same thing, he wondered that he couldn't have run off a form letter telling them that there was nothing wrong with this harmless, imagined paternity. "Marjoram and I," February had asked of him, "what do we have to do to hold your attention. . .?" The crocodile had seen that the girl had the ground steak for him. He was coming, paddling across the blue hole at them. "You've noticed, by now, haven't you, Dorian," February said alertly, "that Big Pine Key is a very different sort of place. This fresh water at the surface, and the pine forests, and certain plants that are found on this island only. Really it's a sort of badland-they've a theory at the schoolhouse that we're not even |
