He was betting on Inspiration. Inspiration was his brother’s racehorse. It was stabled behind His Brother’s Racehorse, which was a restaurant that had been founded by his Uncle Jerry. Uncle Jerry was the nickname that he had given to the car he used to drive himself to the restaurant, because it was gray and halting. Gray and Halting were the names of the lawyers who had reviewed his uncle’s will and determined it sage. Sage was the name of the woman who had taken him to bed while he was waiting for a payout from his uncle’s estate and demonstrated impressive self-awareness by describing her manner in bed as "moving inexorably from fury to tranquility." Fury and Tranquility were the names of nearby towns, one to the west, one to the east, roughly equidistant from and collinear to his town, whose name he couldn’t recall, try as he might, but which nevertheless was the place where they had all been born, and where death would come for them all, even Inspiration, which could run like the wind.
©2020 Ben Greenman/Stupid Ideas
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