After a while he looked up. Looming above him was a man on horseback who had ridden up unheard through the muffling snow.
“You are under arrest,” said the voice of the lieutenant.
APPROXIMATING THE ULTIMATE WITH AUNT SARAH
By Charles Earl Gaymon
Aunt Sarah was sixty-three years old. Uncle John was sixty-four years old.
If you spoke to Aunt Sarah about any new fringe on the tapestry of the intellectual loom she would say:
“Oh, yes, we ’proximated that line of thought in 1893. It is near, but not quite the ultimate.”
If you spoke to Uncle John about Schopenhauer he would reply:
“I don’t take much stock in them new-fangled cultivators.”
Uncle John and Aunt Sarah had lived together in the old homestead for thirty-eight years.