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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=463882" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Peanut-Butter Cookie</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=463882" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">-So what happened to him? <br>-How should I know. It was long ago.<br>-A memory. Awful-is consciousness just circular memory? Is reality? <br>-Memory and will. And sex, of course, implementing both. Erase memory, you still have will. Reality is something different, though. I can see him like yesterday.<br>Are you sure you didn't dream him up? That what you told me wasn't a figment? <br>Yes, I'm sure. It's one of those things you don't forget. I was five, maybe six. It was frosty cold. Scalding cold, you might say-bearable if you had a stout coat. My breath came out in smoky plumes. It was New Year's day. Everyone was excited and hung from the night before. The sky was blue and cloudless. I was content.<br>-Hmmmm. Where was this? <br>Broad Street. Philadelphia.<br>-We were watching the parade. My first. There was something magical about it-those never-ending platoons of marchers in tights, all strumming banjos. The sun shone on their sequins and made them gleam....it was dizzying! <br>-Wow! <br>-...and the fake bird tails-peacock tails made out of fake feathers. Everyone had one. Like the tails of lyre-birds, they were...<br>-Of what kind of bird? <br>-and the banjos, strumming, strumming. And the curiously hollow horns.The sound came in waves, fading into the north and coming on again from the south.<br>-Jeez. Where were your mom and pop? <br>-I don't know. Suddenly they were gone. Maybe I repressed them.<br>-Gone when he came along? <br>-Exactly. I was standing on a curb in a crush of people...<br>-What was he wearing? <br>-An urchin suit out of Dickens. Out of Central Casting. He could have been Peter Pan's understudy. I have the impression he was barefoot, but that's hardly likely.<br>-How old....</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Morgan+Michaels">Morgan Michaels</a></strong></div>

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