SHORT FICTION
The Dodo is Extinct
A Short Story
Nothing is forever, I thought as I strolled, undeliberatly, past rows of modest period houses — some with new, angular, forced extensions — noticing what remained, what was gone and what had changed on the old familiar road.
The school building interrupted the line of dwellings. I could see its walls and railings ahead, dark against the evening light. Still unsure if I would attend the event, I allowed my feet to carry me forward while trying to quell the rising nervousness, remembering that people are just people and that alcohol would take care of the awkwardness. The first thirty minutes would be the hardest; if I hated it, I could relocate to one of the many bars in town. It would be okay.
They found me by email via my brother three months prior. He said I would have known sooner had I been on Facebook. Excited, as he always is about social occasions, he launched into a campaign of encouragement — it would be good for me; I needed a boost; it’s essential to stay connected to your roots — that kind of thing. I could think of nothing worse than reconnecting with a bunch of men with whom I had nothing in common — or far less now than the nothing of twenty years ago.
Yet, I was nearly at the door of my old school, marvelling at being there and how odd the mind…
