Statement of Record
I only realized in hindsight how close she'd come to killing me. One day, how many years later was that, I suddenly had to think—and how long had it been since either of them had crossed my mind—of course, of course, she was pondering it all the while, imagining sending me sailing straight off the cliff with one good, hard push...
They take the Red Line inbound, switch at Park Street for Kenmore Square, the car filling up at each stop with more and more fans and their requisite accessories: Red Sox baseball caps, T-shirts, jackets, flags, foam fingers, kids with streaks of red in their hair. By the time they reach their station, it's so packed, they can barely move and are swept along with...
She points to a man on a stool at the end of the bar. He looks like the creepy old guy from the Metallica Unforgiven music video. It's Alphabet City, he probably is that guy. He looks up at me, winks. Someone once told me that if people wink at you, it means they're lying.
Moustapha kicks the door and stomps off cursing at her. She relights her cigarette. Aria walks into the room but before the woman can say anything she waves her away. When the cigarette is done she lights a new one and takes a prescription bottle out of her purse, two pills lie at its bottom. She swallows them dry.
“Lickety split, hurry up, don’t slow down now, boy,” the man said. They trudged up the side of the mountain and down the other side, not on a trail, just out there moving in between the pines and scrub brush in the accumulating snow, rifles jostling on their backs...
Since this was one of her dreams, and people like to attach themselves to their dreams, she drank tea with him, painted while he looked out at the hills and told her things like, "Look at the curves, doesn't it buzz like sunshine."
A boat carrying dissension, encountered fearful gales. “Hindsight is just kindling lamented man; not only pointless, quintessentially really senseless” Then unknowingly volunteering, Williams’s xeric young zebra acquiesced, being cast down erroneously. Future gallant heroics; immolation justly knelled.”
Later, Monday night...
Can you imagine if you were someone else? I used to think about that a lot, that it could be just as natural to be gazing down at a completely different big toe—I mean, the toe I'd be seeing would seem normal to me, because that toe and not this one, the one I'm looking at right now, would have been the only big toe I'd have ever known as my own. As though it weren't too...
Statement of Record