Neil San Francisco — 1986 The Fabric of the Universe

Neil stares at the thin white cloth covering his rising bread. Huck grabs a corner, trying to reveal his unleavened child.

“Huck!” Neil cries, pushing him away. It seems a long, long time since his baking has been fruitful. He does not know how to patch the emptiness in his heart, how to live with the fear that loss is the only reality and that love always ends in death and loneliness. He pets Huck’s rainbow black feathers, and gazes out the window, not noticing that Huck is pecking at the un-risen dough, making his beak sticky and white with batter.