Venus and Mars II
Obviously satisfied with my answer he folded the peice of toxic waste neatly and placed it with the others in his drawer then shut it. The haze of a million noxious fumes hovered for a moment over the empty space then scattered like a million roaches to the far corners of the room.
Truly, living with the man was like living in a cess pit.
Then again, since that Chevy 98 pick-me-up ploughed into our house and burnt it down last summer that’s just about where we lived. A beaten up old trailer home parked a few yards from North I49 with more wildlife growing inside it than on the scrub and mudland outside.
“So why’d you put it back in there?” I ask. Stupid question really, why does a man do anything?
“Experiment,” he said. “Gonna make us rich.”