Games Of Fools

ke lukewarm water, making you wonder if the sun had an off day. The sky was bleached, stretched pale with cotton clouds that didn't quite know whethe

color of sun-worn timber and dust, standing silent and loyal beside a large maize field. His shirt was linen, faded green with a tear on the sleeve, the buttons mismatched from years of repairs.

surface bore marks of both function and affection: knife scars, water rings, and sun bleached patches. On it sat a jug of freshly processed guava juic

gravelly and warm, "when ar

s skin was sun-baked, etched with the kind of wrinkles that only laughter, wisdom, and years on a tractor could carve.

left in the city for me. I couldn't even co

y, matter-of-fact. "Tha

ously

ust giving you an answer." Mr. Kirb

ed back, eyes drifting to the sky. "Anyway,

? I think if you stopped being a cruddy drunk, you might ac

ll over him, like wate

know what you're thinking. But alcohol won't take you anywhere, son. You'

oked at him. "S

our childhood friend's dad when he got drunk? Fell into a ditch last Thursday. Neighbor f

he wind lifted Jake'

tivational book I know. Nobody-not books, audios, videos, whatever-really motivates you much. Life and you, yourself, does. One da

He stared at the horizon, where the clouds had begun to part slightly, re

"I'm off. Look after the farm til

istency, Mr. Kirby still trusted him with the business. Jake

ding lazy cows, Jake, with his buddy Devin-a fellow farmworker an

smelled of sweat, sawdust, and spilled beer. A ceiling fan clunked overhead like it was counting its last day

ft corner, right before a wide ceiling-to-floor glass wall t

with a moustache still ne

id, grinning. "T

ed, tugging off his jacket and h

Luka winked an

cked than usual," Devin

eople like moths to a flame. Pherr

t about all that and focus on drin

pty mug. "Now that'

rge mugs, foam spilling l

en they talked. And when Jak

, nothing comes. Then you drink so you stop feeling like a failure,

with that damn restaurant I barely see her. We l

hose little lemon

ly. "But she never has time to

ks. More

e was too far gone to ask names. Devin waved them in, and they joined the

ner, a thick-browed man n

arty's over. I ain't dragging

ickup truck like groceries and drive

ripe with liquor and regrets. His thoughts floated somewh

ure what he

thing ha

o