March 29th, 2012:
The wind snapped the umbrella like a twig underfoot. The two unhinged joints left one side of the fabric limp like a collapsed lung. My anger soon dissolved into laughter as I caught sight of the windproof tag before tossing the ragged skeletal mess into the trash.
The wind snapped the umbrella like a twig underfoot. The two unhinged joints left one side of the fabric limp like a collapsed lung. My anger soon dissolved into laughter as I caught sight of the windproof tag before tossing the ragged skeletal mess into the trash.
March 30th, 2012:
Somebody knocked on the door. I went to see who it was but the peephole had been covered. I cracked open the door and found an empty hallway resonating with televisions, crying children, and the smell of cooking rising through the floor. A letter was attached to the other side of the peephole. Typed were the words, “I am watching.”
I spent several nights with the blinds shut, pulling them back only slightly to see if any eyes were returning the vigilance. What I saw instead, in the apartment across the way, was my boyfriend locked in the arms of another man. His face was buried in the stranger’s matte of chest hair. With all the time I spent watching them, I completely forgot about my previous fears.
Somebody knocked on the door. I went to see who it was but the peephole had been covered. I cracked open the door and found an empty hallway resonating with televisions, crying children, and the smell of cooking rising through the floor. A letter was attached to the other side of the peephole. Typed were the words, “I am watching.”
I spent several nights with the blinds shut, pulling them back only slightly to see if any eyes were returning the vigilance. What I saw instead, in the apartment across the way, was my boyfriend locked in the arms of another man. His face was buried in the stranger’s matte of chest hair. With all the time I spent watching them, I completely forgot about my previous fears.
March 31st, 2012:
First it was my roommate waking up at three in the morning screaming my name, demanding that I wake up. Then it was a light outside my roommate’s window, rising like a firework and cutting across the sky. The final phenomenon was the fluid figure running on all fours through the underbrush while my mother strolled in the arboretum. I shivered at the stories, and again at how close they had all been to me without so much as stirring me in the sheets.
First it was my roommate waking up at three in the morning screaming my name, demanding that I wake up. Then it was a light outside my roommate’s window, rising like a firework and cutting across the sky. The final phenomenon was the fluid figure running on all fours through the underbrush while my mother strolled in the arboretum. I shivered at the stories, and again at how close they had all been to me without so much as stirring me in the sheets.
April 1st, 2012:
I thought nothing of her laughter until I could foresee no end to the noise. Her voice rose from a giggle to a chuckle to a laugh and finally into a cackle that forced her to thrust in her stomach and double over with her elbows in her gut. I set my book down and looked over to her, where I saw a demon hyena ramming its head against the inside of the young girl’s jaw. Eventually it unhinged and the strange beast escaped. The woman’s eyes rolled back into her head, and blood and saliva mixed into pale foam at the corners of her mouth. She passed out onto her latte and I resumed my homework.
I thought nothing of her laughter until I could foresee no end to the noise. Her voice rose from a giggle to a chuckle to a laugh and finally into a cackle that forced her to thrust in her stomach and double over with her elbows in her gut. I set my book down and looked over to her, where I saw a demon hyena ramming its head against the inside of the young girl’s jaw. Eventually it unhinged and the strange beast escaped. The woman’s eyes rolled back into her head, and blood and saliva mixed into pale foam at the corners of her mouth. She passed out onto her latte and I resumed my homework.
April 2nd, 2012:
On the library shelf there was a cross; its check out history a yellowed sheet wrapped around the edges of the crucifix like a shroud. Present dates conversed with the past in accidental intersections. I found myself enamored with the names and dates: Donated by Kenneth Carson, 1919. Stephanie Lynn, 1997. Martin Lancer, 1954. The list went on. I spent so much of my time pondering the potential fates of these names and their faiths that the hours passed and I hadn’t even considered the icon.
On the library shelf there was a cross; its check out history a yellowed sheet wrapped around the edges of the crucifix like a shroud. Present dates conversed with the past in accidental intersections. I found myself enamored with the names and dates: Donated by Kenneth Carson, 1919. Stephanie Lynn, 1997. Martin Lancer, 1954. The list went on. I spent so much of my time pondering the potential fates of these names and their faiths that the hours passed and I hadn’t even considered the icon.
April 3rd, 2012:
I donated my four dollars for a box of Girl Scout cookies. I ate them at home, hunched over the individual plastic cookie sleeves like a malfunctioning sewing machine tearing through the fabric. Even with the knot of nausea tightening its way into my throat, I continued to eat. As I lay in the bathroom, my stomach and head pressed against the tiles for their icy surface, weary from the sugar coma illness, I imagined the Girl Scout receiving a badge for her efforts.
I donated my four dollars for a box of Girl Scout cookies. I ate them at home, hunched over the individual plastic cookie sleeves like a malfunctioning sewing machine tearing through the fabric. Even with the knot of nausea tightening its way into my throat, I continued to eat. As I lay in the bathroom, my stomach and head pressed against the tiles for their icy surface, weary from the sugar coma illness, I imagined the Girl Scout receiving a badge for her efforts.
April 4th, 2012:
The mute man, who felt sad for the blind stranger in the waiting room, began to fear his own existence. Although the blind stranger sat in silence without any company, it was the mute man sitting in his company who could not be acknowledged without some form of interference. The blind man read The Possessed in braille and moved his lips. He was reading to himself, or talking, or maybe he was singing, connecting to a human mystery the deaf man would never master. The mute man had sight, but only the sight of the waiting room in its four whitewashed walls, a stack of slowly dating magazines, and the blind man who did not have to endure the sense of invisibility.
The mute man, who felt sad for the blind stranger in the waiting room, began to fear his own existence. Although the blind stranger sat in silence without any company, it was the mute man sitting in his company who could not be acknowledged without some form of interference. The blind man read The Possessed in braille and moved his lips. He was reading to himself, or talking, or maybe he was singing, connecting to a human mystery the deaf man would never master. The mute man had sight, but only the sight of the waiting room in its four whitewashed walls, a stack of slowly dating magazines, and the blind man who did not have to endure the sense of invisibility.
No comments:
Post a Comment