by Alun Williams
I buried my dad in a graveyard filled with dead American heroes last week and felt guilty that he died at the age of eighty two. When I emptied his house out today, I found something that made me even more ashamed. It was a long metal box that had been hidden in the corner of the attic under an old Arapaoho blanket that my mom had brought twenty years ago. Inside the box was a telescopic rifle, a Bank of America deposit book that had four million dollars in the "deposited" column and a short note. The note said that he was sorry for what he did and that If I ever found this, I should throw it in the nearest lake. It went on to say what he did on that grassy knoll in Dallas all those years ago.
6S
Alun Williams, ex-member of East of the Web and author of Walking the Dog, lives in Wales. He now writes in Critters Bar and Zoetrope under "maxie slim" and "Maxwell Allen." Several shorts by Alun have been published in Write Side Up, Cambrensis and Secret Attic.