Troped

Able’s father comes in from the fields spiritually depressed but stubbornly content as usual. He is a large, hard man with a square face and a beard like a Josiah. Removing his wide brim hat and coat, he hangs them on a hook by the door and bends down to struggle with his heavy, black boots.

Standing by the furnace, Able had been watching the dull-gray fire passionlessly consume a new ashen log when his father had entered. He quietly starts to slip out of the room.

“Where is that useless gimp brother of yours?”

Able stops for a moment in the crooked door frame before realizing that his father had thought he was speaking to his brother. He hangs his head and shuffles away.