The Bureau of Dreams to be Continued by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview

The Bureau of Dreams to be Continued

Page 376

Monopoly

The Dream of Marvin Gardens

Dennis stirred in his recliner, the late afternoon sun casting long golden bars across the carpet. The television murmured something about interest rates and the Dow Jones, but he wasn’t listening. His eyelids drooped, and the hum of the world softened into a hush. In that hush, the years peeled away.

He was eight again.

The living room was smaller, warmer, filled with the scent of pot roast and the faint ozone of the Zenith console humming in the corner. The shag carpet itched his knees as he knelt beside the Monopoly board, its colors vivid and uncreased. His older brother, Tommy, sat cross legged across from him, already hoarding orange properties and smirking like a robber baron. Their mother, in her apron, had just passed Go and collected her $200 with a triumphant laugh. Their father, sleeves rolled up, pipe resting in the ashtray, was the banker; always the banker, and always suspiciously lucky with the dice.

“Don’t let your brother swindle you, Den,” his father said, winking as he handed over a tidy stack of pink bills. “He’s got Boardwalk eyes.”