I never knew what to say when people asked me what my father did for a living. Sometimes I joked, “He’s involved with high-risk investments.” — “Stocks? Bonds?” — “More like ponies and dice.”
He held it up and out, away from his body and along his arm. He used it to point at us sitting there in front of him. Over the curved edge, he gathered us in his sights.
Some people daydream about tropical islands, or tall ships, or sex with their classmates. I spend that time confronting the grim reality of my own imminent demise.