Crystalline Cool (5)

   
   "Crystalline Cool (5)"
  
   Sitting on a comfy couch out in their rural backyard, a little red on their necks, but not drinking Mountain Dew--Duncan and his Dad started having a little talk.  His Dad igniting it all, as the twosome and Roadkill, the adopted Golden Retriever looked up into the celestial night, admiring the luminosity of the sparkling heavens--Dad saying:  "I'm proud of what's inside of you Duncan.  Heck, you couldn't even speak until you were four years-old--that speech pathologist was an angel I'm telling ya.  And then, you got fat on life, chasing girls, questioning everything, nervous as an innocent bird on a hot tin roof, yet you found your solace and refuge in the Lord.  And I'm inspired by your work ethic, no matter that it pays crap--you just give me 15% of your earnings and I'll put it in a fund for you.  Who cares if the community mocks your lack of being controlled by the fallen, gelling with an American Dream that is forged on damning the determination of the magnanimous, which seems deranged to those in pursuit of the brass ring.  And I'm a damn patriot kid."
   Duncan changed the subject:  "Dad--there's this girl named Aimee.  She works at the local burger joint in town.  Anyway, I can sense her interest in me, and she's blonde, which for some innate reason makes me crave her glowing laughter.  Should I ask her out?"
   His Dad chuckled with a cowboy's snort on a smoky cigar, saying:  "If it brings peace to you, and you never become more attached than to what is correct in life--go for it kid."
   Duncan gave Roadkill a heavy petty atop the dog's head, and the noble beast nuzzled in close to his friendship.