It would be the end of his career; not even his Phi Beta Kappa key would save him. But he was addicted to Tanya, and he couldn’t cut it off. His students must have known. Tanya always sat in the front row, purring at him under her breath.
“Language is monstrous,” he’d say, trying not to look at Tanya’s legs. “Sentences are made with the Devil’s own music.”
“What does that mean?” asked Sheleela of Sheridan Avenue.
“Look at the way we group animals. We say a herd of elephants or an army of caterpillars. That’s sensible isn’t it? But what about zebras?”
Sheleela stared at him. “Don’t zebras have their herd?”
“Perhaps,”said Milo. “But we still talk about a zeal of zebras, a rumba of rattlesnakes, and a shiver of sharks.”
Milo’s Last Chance from Jerome Charyn’s Bitter Bronx- Thirteen Stories
Originally published at blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com.