The Four Keiths

Keith 4

The rain thundered against the palm fronds Keith had erected as a cover over his balcony. Every evening when he got home from the plant he followed the same routine: he made a large daiquiri and watched the pelicans grab frogs and fishes from the Pomona swamp. Some people hated the swamp, complained it smelled, but Keith loved the rich warmth of it. To him the swamp, which had been dug out to absorb the tropical rains, represented Manchester’s ability to adapt as much as his job at the rum distillery did.