I looked out the Broadthrow's window.
A white car drove up and stopped across the street.
Uncle Roger got out.
It was a sunny December Sunday afternoon in Woodside,
but he was wearing a long black overcoat,
and a black fakefur Russian hat.
In his hands he held a sprig of mistletoe
and a brown paper bag.


Uncle Roger File 3: Terminals by Judy Malloy
click on the keyboard or the spacebar to read the story