JULY 7TH

          Clyde finally got his wish on his 38^th birthday.  It’s the wish he’d made for years, but this year it manifested itself.  He’d always wanted to have a birthday where, somehow, every birthday present he’d ever gotten could suddenly appear before him (along with whatever lame presents he’d be getting on the year that it happens).  And this year he got his wish.  Somehow a hole had ripped in both time and space and, coincidentally, linked his current space in time with every single July 7^th he’d ever celebrated.  Every G.I. Joe action figure, every Star Wars playset, every record, cassette or stereo he’d ever gotten.  There.  Right in the middle of his living room amidst the paltry collection of gift certificates and ties and books he’d gotten on this day.  And sadly, he reveled in his fortune instead of thinking about the younger version of himself, who would not be having a happy birthday in each year that these toys were ripped from, one by one.  A younger Clyde who would be without these things.  Clyde didn’t care about his younger self.  He simply sprawled out in the middle of his living room, clutching his favorite, two foot tall Shogun Warrior as his heart stopped beating.

-SLL