by Jake Barnes
I remember a day in 1942 when I hid under our dining room table for half the afternoon. They sent us home from school early that day. I suppose it was just a practice drill, but I didn't hear the “practice” part. I was convinced that enemy bombers were on the way.
Nobody was home. My father was at work, and I don't know where my mother was. Maybe having coffee with a neighbor lady. When she came home and found me under the table, she took me by the hand and hauled me out. “Why in the world would they bomb us?” she asked. It was a good question. We were two hundred miles from the Twin Cities, fifty miles from Fargo. There was nothing whatsoever to bomb in my home town, unless maybe it was the arsenal that we Lutheran kids were told was in the basement of the Catholic Church.
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Young and dumb.
Another apparently simple piece with deep tangled roots. Well done.
Yes, there's a lot going on here. Love that last sentence. *
I loved the way how you built the flow till the closing line. Very well executed.
Reminds me of duck-and-cover drills in a disgusting Indianapolis grade school in the late 40's. Kill the fourth graders and save the kindergartners. Beware papists as the Methodists say. *
Good us & them piece - Somehow connects in my head with the Twilight Zone. *
The Catholic church always has the most interesting stuff.
This made me smile.
Carol, Christian, Javed, Daniel, Sam, Gary, and Steven: thank you very much for the comments and the favs. Thank you especially, Carol. Hmm. At least the men liked it.
Yep. Preacher railed mightily against those idol worshipers. *
The last sentence here explodes like a bomb.
Excellent, beginning to end.
Beautifully written, all leading to that perfect last line *
Creates a great and vivid picture in the head.