Aug 15


by David Blaine

Dewey came home to introduce everyone to his fiancé,
a flapper girl from the city. He was driving a new
Ford and his fancy shoes and wool topcoat let
the family know that he’d been doing OK. He’d obtained
the three things he’d left for: A good job, a decent car
and a pretty girl.
What his brothers were most impressed with was that Dewey
had simply gotten the hell out of rural Indiana.

Later that summer
Jack would be crushed to death in a baler accident.
George would die of pneumonia the following February.
Mike would start drinking seriously after that,
and the two nephews would be put into an orphanage within the year.
Dewey knew none of it. He’d been shot to death
sitting in his car on Halstead a week before the wedding.
No one remembers the flapper girl’s name.