Work Title

The Parting


Riley Sullivan


I could imagine him coming in quietly, scarcely taking the effort to close the door securely. Yet, he might come in hurredly, slam the door, run through the house, throw his coat and books on the dining room table, and be up in our room almost before the echo of the noise had died away. He was moody and changeable; that was why I was leaving; that was what I disliked about him; and that was why I did not know how he would enter the house. In fact, I never knew how he was going to act under any condition. During his exhilarated moods, he was almost too kind and generous to everyone: his friends, acquaintances, and animals alike. But some of his moods were unbearable. He seemed always above or below everything on earth. I don't believe he ever felt in conjunction with a living person or thing.



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