“What the hell, Lloyd, you’re like a damn pogo stick, can’t you just get me a beer without shaking it up?”
Lloyd stopped hopping, pausing to get his balance with one leg still bent at the knee, then continued back to the poker game hopping more slowly, a can of beer in each seesawing hand. When Marge received her can she pointed it at him as she popped the top, spraying Lloyd before slurping the foam that bubbled out, glaring over the can as Lloyd dropped clumsily into his chair.
“I’d love to finish the game, Lloyd, but do tell, what the hell are you doing going around on one leg all night?”
“Ha,” Nard snorted, “What he’s doing is Ilene and he wants to lean too, ‘cause he’s a sensitive dumbass.”
“Oh yeah… that is so sweet, Lloyd,” Marge smiled under her beer foam mustache.
This evening started with him reciting Japanese poetry for her and now Ilene and Lloyd, dressed in kimonos, stood stretching and swaying together in his small living room. They hardly noticed when Lloyd, his leg bent awkwardly behind him, swiped Ilene’s prosthetic leg off the stack of books where it had lain. They hardly noticed because they were dancing cranes.
Maybe the two-legged crane should have danced using both his legs. They ended up toppling over, ending in a tangle on the couch. But their dance wasn’t finished.