<div align="center">In The Morning Shroud</div>

The day began, as it would any other. Dean swearing as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and turned off the alarm clock. It had been another late night, and early morning of farm work before hockey practice in the evening.

Hair of the dog he thought as he grabbed the bottle of whisky off the nightstand and took a swig, it warmed the belly, and he stood up. He would need the warmth today, it was late August and the temperature was in the double digits in Northern Saskatchewan.

"Deannnnnnn! Breakfast!!!" His mom yelled upstairs to him as the smell of bacon wafted up the winding stairs to his room at the top of the stairs. He ran down full tilt as he always did, since the early days of his childhood, more than once landing on the floor not on his feet, this time was one of those times as he tripped over the pair of jeans he left at the top of the stairs and fell down to the landing.

His mom never batted an eye, continuing to cook the dozen eggs in the pan, not even looking up as he devoured the half dozen pancakes on his plate.

"Dick went upstairs about an hour ago, where is he?"

Dean spat beer all over the table.

"What...you just let him up?"
"He said it's important, he couldn't wait to tell you."
" Then why didn't you wake me?"
"He said he would."
"Then where is he?"

An hour later, the coroner closed the door on one of Deans oldest (and I mean oldest) friends broken hips. Apparently he had thought Dean was living in the basement, and fell down those steps, laying at the bottom for seven hours while the dog licked his face.

"Jesus Christ, sonny, watch what you are doing. I'm not getting any younger."


It was another hour before Dick sat down, Dean didn't notice at first and nearly sat on Dick. Dick looked troubled.

"I don't know how to tell you this, Dean, I only just found out myself last night. Dean, you remember when you were playing in the IIHF early in your career, that tourney in Ireland where we got shitfaced and that girl threw her panties on the ice?"

"Yes..."

"That's your sons mother. His name is Wort."

*THUD*

Dean? DEAN? DEAN???

I am so confused. Who is Dick? Did he break his hip, or die (or was that someone else)? If he went upstairs an hour ago, why was he lying at the bottom of the steps for seven hours? What happened to Dean at the end? Why was he drinking beer with pancakes? Who falls down the stairs on a regular basis? How many questions can I ask in a row about this story?