He looked older than nine and was immediately joined by three sisters who were three, five and seven. The sisters weren’t wearing any shoes either and they didn’t have any coats on. The sisters looked older than they were.

The quiet spell of the twilight broke suddenly and it started raining again, but the kids didn’t go into the house. They just stood there on the porch, getting all wet and looking at me.

I’ll have to admit that I was a strange sight coming down their muddy little road in the middle of God-damn nowhere with darkness coming on and a 30:30 cradled down in my arms, so the night rain wouldn’t get in the barrel.

The kids didn’t say a word as I walked by. The sisters’ hair was unruly like dwarf witches’. I didn’t see their folks. There was no light on in the house.

A Model A truck lay on its side in front of the house. It was next to three empty fifty-gallon oil drums. They didn’t have a purpose any more. There were some odd pieces of rusty cable. A yellow dog came out and stared at me.

I didn’t say a word in my passing. The kids were soaking wet now. They huddled together in silence on the porch. I had no reason to believe that there was anything more to life than this.

A Long Time Ago People Decided to Live in America

I’m wandering along, thinking about how I’d like to get laid by somebody new. It’s a cold winter afternoon and just another thought, almost out of my mind when―

A tall, God-I-love-the-tall-ones girl comes walking up the street, casual as a young animal with Levi’s on. She must be 5-9, wearing a blue sweater. Her breasts are loose beneath it and move in firm youthful tide.

She has no shoes on.

She’s a hippie girl.

Her hair is long.

She doesn’t know how pretty she is. I like that. It always turns me on, which isn’t very hard to do right now because I’m already thinking about girls.

Then as we pass each other she turns towards me, a thing totally unexpected and she says, ‘Don’t I know you?’

Wow! She is standing beside me now. She’s really tall!

I look closely at her. I try to see if I know her. Maybe she’s a former lover or somebody else I’ve met or made a pass at when I’ve been drunk. I look carefully at her and she is beautiful in a fresh young way. She has the nicest blue eyes, but I don’t recognize her.

‘I know I’ve seen you before,’ she says, looking up into my face. ‘What’s your name?’

‘Clarence.’

‘Clarence?’

‘Yeah, Clarence.’

‘Oh, then I don’t know you,’ she says.

That was kind of fast.