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SOMEONE'S LAUGHING
It’s funny, how some things that seem so far apart can really be so close to one another. Like the best day and the worst day of your life. Not funny like it’s amusing; you know - funny like a clown, make you laugh. No, more a funny like there really is a Sunday school kind of someone up there, watching us all, just like they told you. But not someone who’s on your team, making things work out the way you hope they will; it’s more like there’s someone up there who’s laughing. “There it is.”
Kate nodded out the window. We were driving up Sheridan Road, winding through the wooded streets of Winnetka, along Chicago’s North Shore, taking her back to the red brick colonial, where she lived with her husband. A little shack that couldn’t have been worth more than ten or fifteen million; eight bedrooms stuck on a bluff above Lake Michigan. We were discussing our future. Excerpt from a short story to be published in an anthology of short works by Chicago fiction writers in the spring and fall of this year (2008). Learn more about Ric and his writing
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