Harkness Candle Takes It Home
by David Barron
Copyright © 2012 David Barron
Published by H2NH ePub
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Harkness Candle Takes It Home
by David Barron
I believe that the universe came into existence five minutes ago, entirely—implicitly—for my amusement until such time as I die, at which point it will cease to exist. The fact that I do not rule the universe is a reflection of my need for a challenge. Besides: who says I can’t, later?
I’ve got time, but now I’ve got a job to do.
Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Harkness Candle, and I’m thirty years old, give or take five minutes. You may think I’m self-centered, but I’ll go one better: I don’t even think you think at all. You know there are some men who believe that they don’t exist, seeming, somehow, to apologize their whole lives to the world for their lack of existence? I’ve got the opposite thing. I think the world should apologize to me for not being nearly interesting enough.
Take this house, for example. I’m squatting here amidst the tattered remnants of a displaced—foreclosed, presumably, after they both lost their jobs and Timmy and Tammy got too sick, and young Pony the dog had to be put down, and after that job in Arizona just seemed so good (too good to be true, really, but what else was there for Martha to do but go, Frank depressed and brooding unemployed?) and they moved, and then…—family in a suburb of Detroit. There’s a sharp autumn tang in the air, and I can taste the air pollution along with it. There’s nothing much to do, except wait. Wait for the money to come to me. I’m meeting a man, today, here. I have a pistol in my pocket, but I doubt I’ll use it. Crime doesn’t pay, or there’d be more criminals.