Saturday's Storyteller: "Have I ever told you about when I was a carrier pigeon in the Great War?"
by Belinda Roddie "Have I ever told you about when I was a carrier pigeon in the Great War?" There was a heavy but hearty sigh of affirmation in the space. Aloysius smiled. He swirled the Barbera in his glass so that the red glazed the brim, waiting to sip it as he eyed his dear brother, Zac. "Ah, yes," he murmured. "It's a tired story, I assure you, but 1917 - that was the year to fly. It all went very well until just the right amount of shrapnel hit me in the right wing. Took me down quickly, into the mud of a war-baked Germany. I died rather quickly." Zac nodded solemnly before turning to his beer. Nestled beside him was his wife, Claire, whose deep oaken eyes resembled very much those of a fawn nestled in the spring of the suburbs. His cousin, Sweeney, sat in the easy chair closest to the door, smoking one of those newfangled electronic cigarettes that breathed out plumes of vapor instead of smoke. Zac never would understand the app