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Silkworm Ink

January 10, 2014

My new bride and I stood in a short receiving line in her parents’ living room while well-wishers lined up to say their congratulations. “I’m Debra’s Uncle Phil,” Uncle Phil said and squeezed my hand hard instead of shaking it. I winced. I winced again when he patted my cheek a little too hard and said, “You be good to my favorite niece or you’ll have me to answer to.” I nodded my acquiescence as he moved down the line to Debra.
“Mazel tov, honey,” he said and handed her an envelope. She smiled and he bent over to kiss her and just before their lips touched I saw his very large thick discolored veined old uncle tongue quickly exiting his mouth and entering hers.
“Don’t expect me to invite him for dinner,” I whispered in her ear as he moved down the reception line. Just before he went to kiss my mother-in-law she started coughing and covered her mouth with one hand while waving her brother to move on down the line with the other.

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