This morning, the sky gods played Kegel above the house. They took flash pictures of the tournament but did not cheer when the pins fell. I listened to the rumbling of the ball down wooden lanes and the clatter of pins but never knew who was winning. The rain, which always seems to accompany sky god gatherings, began early, woke me up. Now, the storm is fading, like they always do after sunrise; the rain has slowed to a sprinkling, and the feral chickens have begun crowing in some desperate attempt to catch up on the day’s crowing quota. By …
