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Nick's Night, and: Gill Bronsen's Dream

Nick's Night, and: Gill Bronsen's Dream R. F. McEwen Nick's Night "You'll not believe he won't be back," they heard Nick Nolan jeer; "that his time won't be stumbling, limp and pace, but disappear." He roared to the boys on the evening of the day his brother died; he roared to the boys from his whiskey, and no one cried. His brother had been the younger at least by twenty years. Nick said it was better, when dying, to see things clear and not be a clinging bastard, and not be a son of a bitch who cursed the degree of a wounding he couldn't patch. The day'd been a reflex of moments each moment a curse and a blow; Nick's brother was dead in a moment and not before. And the moment could not be sundered ­ "By the powers" cried Nick, "to his health." But at noon of that day by his power his brother fell. 162 Then Nick with a leap gained the bar top to favor the boys with a song; but the taste of his tongue was bitter and the boys were gone. Gill Bronsen's Dream Beneath the quilt his grandmother had made in 1950 for his uncle Grace http://www.deepdyve.com/assets/images/DeepDyve-Logo-lg.png Prairie Schooner University of Nebraska Press

Nick's Night, and: Gill Bronsen's Dream

Prairie Schooner , Volume 79 (4) – May 18, 2005

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Publisher
University of Nebraska Press
Copyright
Copyright © 2005 by the University of Nebraska Press.
ISSN
1542-426X
Publisher site
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Abstract

R. F. McEwen Nick's Night "You'll not believe he won't be back," they heard Nick Nolan jeer; "that his time won't be stumbling, limp and pace, but disappear." He roared to the boys on the evening of the day his brother died; he roared to the boys from his whiskey, and no one cried. His brother had been the younger at least by twenty years. Nick said it was better, when dying, to see things clear and not be a clinging bastard, and not be a son of a bitch who cursed the degree of a wounding he couldn't patch. The day'd been a reflex of moments each moment a curse and a blow; Nick's brother was dead in a moment and not before. And the moment could not be sundered ­ "By the powers" cried Nick, "to his health." But at noon of that day by his power his brother fell. 162 Then Nick with a leap gained the bar top to favor the boys with a song; but the taste of his tongue was bitter and the boys were gone. Gill Bronsen's Dream Beneath the quilt his grandmother had made in 1950 for his uncle Grace

Journal

Prairie SchoonerUniversity of Nebraska Press

Published: May 18, 2005

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