Covid, I tell you, too sick to write. But I think I’m back. This draft is called “King of the Lily Pond”

Ed reads the draft of his story. It’s about

Joe, his oldest cousin, tall and broad,

much more so than any of his little cousins,

standing in the middle of the Lualuna lily pond,

fending off this band of little people. If anyone

manages to move him from his position, then . . .

the rest is silence. Ed, that’s all you have? He nods, 

his head, now bowed in shame. The suspense had

us all perched on the proverbial edge of our seats.

Ed, tomorrow I want the rest of that draft.

The next day I call on Ed, and he begins to read 

a story about a game climbing coconut trees.

Ed, what happened to “King of the Lily Pond”?

Ed says I’ll like “Coconut Darts” more. He finishes

reading, and he’s had us all swimming in tears

of laughter. Ed, okay, yes, that’s a great story.

But you still owe me “King of the Lily Pond.” Well, 

30 years later, Ed still owes me “King of the Lily Pond.”

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