The Miracles of Ordinary Men Read Online Free

batted at one wing and then licked her paw, as though it was no big deal.
    â€œThis isn’t funny,” he told her, almost shouting. She raised a paw again and ran her claws through the feathers. It hurt, more than he could have imagined.
    Bryan
.
It was the only thing he could think of. He’d stumbled into his apartment alone last night, but Bryan was the craftiest jokester he knew, and he lived half a block away. His hands shook so badly he could barely dial the number.
    His best friend answered on the seventh ring, sounding half asleep. “Muh?”
    â€œVery funny.
Ha ha.
”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œI have down on my bedsheets. Extra points for getting in and getting it all done without waking me up. Now how do I get the damn things off?”
    â€œWhat the hell are you talking about?”
    â€œThe wings, Bryan. Is it Super Glue?”
    Pause. “I’m coming over.”
    â€œDon’t bother. Just — ”
    â€œFive minutes, Sam.” And
click.
    Bryan was at his house in three, pounding on Sam’s door as though he’d just called 911 . He’d run over in slippers and his flannels and when Sam opened the door expecting a yell, or at the very least a startled
What the fuck
,
all Bryan did was grab him by the shoulders and pull him in for a brisk, hard hug.
    â€œSam,” he said, when he pulled away, “I thought that was it.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œI thought you’d lost it. All this stuff with Julie — I thought it had pushed you over the edge.” His hair was in matted brown disarray and there were bags under his eyes.
    Sam took one breath and then another. “I called because of — these.” He gestured wildly behind his back. The wings fluttered, up and down. “See?”
    Bryan’s broad face was puzzled. “What?”
    â€œCan’t you — ” waving madly “ —
see
them?”
    Now he looked nervous. “See what, buddy?”
    Sam blinked, unsure — was he still dreaming? — and then looked back over his shoulder. There they were, the feathers limp against his spine. “You don’t see anything? Anything out of the ordinary?”
    Bryan snorted. “Aside from you and one hell of a hangover? No.”
    He felt dizzy, and slumped against the wall. “Oh. Okay.” The wings bent against the wall with a sound like crumpling tissue, but Bryan didn’t appear to hear it. Sam closed his eyes.
    â€œDude. You need to forget about this chick. Look at what it’s doing to you.”
    That almost made him laugh. “She’s not just ‘some chick,’
Bryan.”
    Bryan ignored him and padded down the hall into the kitchen. Sam listened as he opened the cupboards — out of coffee again, most likely. Then he shuffled back to the door. When Sam opened his eyes, Bryan was readjusting his slippers, coffee in hand.
    â€œI’m telling you, Sam. It’s over. She’s granite. You’re humping a fucking rock.”
    â€œI think,” he said, “that the expression is ‘beating a dead horse.’”
    â€œWhatever. A rock is a rock is a rock, Sam — time to move on. We should go out more, introduce you to some people.”
    â€œSince when do you know people?” Sam asked. Each word felt forced, too big for his mouth.
    â€œThis might surprise you, but the whole world hasn’t gone into mourning.”
    â€œI haven’t gone into mourning.”
    Bryan snorted. “Sure,” he said. “You’ve practically disappeared and now you’re hallucinating after one night out on the town.”
    â€œI’m not — ”
    â€œSam.”
    He blinked and then remembered. Pressed his hand against the wall and felt feathers, just waiting. “I’m just — old. Too old for nights like that.”
    â€œSpeak for yourself, friend. What you need are
more
nights out. We should do this again soon. To hell with