i.

He remained to dwell for a moment on the conversation with his brother. Faintly visible in the early evening light were dust motes that seeped into the room through the cracked blinds. Albert swatted the air and sent swirling circles of dust.

The pessimism in Mike’s voice hung there while he sat. The walnut chair in which he sat was comfortable enough, he thought. Mike had phoned to wish him a happy birthday. Thirty. Albert had reiterated this in nurturing optimism; before hanging up he dared suggest something to his oldest brother.

“Cheer up, Mike. You and Chris need to plan a trip to Chicago. It’d be good for us all.”

“Yea, I know,” then repeated listlessly, “I know.” Most conversations with Mike followed the same beginning, middle and end.

He is reticent.