Serving House: A Journal of Literary Arts
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SHJ Issue 14
Spring 2016


by Joseph Buehler

It started to get dark and we decided that Hope wasn’t coming
	after all and Walter asserted that he had never even seen
the prosecutor. Alice stood, grim-faced, until after the parade
	had finally passed and Quimby kept nodding his black
hatted head and then placed one hand dramatically upon his
	handsome waistcoat and smiled his dreamy smile.... Oliver
stumbled by. He leaned back against the nearest lamppost; he
	raised one hand in greeting. Alice dropped her pink and
white parasol, by pure accident, into the gutter and Walter
	picked it up for her.

Robert’s mutt, his tail raised high in the air, slipped past. He
	sniffed curiously at the merchandise. Then he trotted away


SHJ Issue 14
Spring 2016

Joseph Buehler

is retired and lives with his wife in Georgia (rolling hill country). His poetry is published in Common Ground Review, Theodate, Fredericksburg Literary Review, The Write Room, Indiana Voice Journal, The Tower Journal, Linden Avenue Literary Journal, and elsewhere. He has poetry appearing soon in Blue Bonnet Review, East End Elements, and Nine Mile Magazine.

“...we have been born here to witness and celebrate. We wonder at our purpose for living. Our purpose
is to perceive the fantastic. Why have a universe if there is no audience?” — Ray Bradbury