Archive for the ‘drainage’ Category
Nov 18 2004 »
Monday, April 9th, 2012
I don’t remember it well. It was a non-event, as far as burgeoning relationships are concerned. It started in a room filled with computers in my early twenties.
There was the typical flourish, of course. For weeks there was constant interaction. I was anxious if I wasn’t checking in almost constantly. What’s new? How are things?
It was new, you were vibrant and interesting. There were witty jabs about how we knew one another. It was flexible and entertaining.
But, like all relationships, eventually things grew stale. It was partly my fault, but mostly not. (more…)
quintessential »
Tuesday, August 30th, 2011
Her dark, curly hair is bundled on her head, off to the side. It’s held together by a small clip that hangs just above her ear. All her hair is out of place, but the placement is considered. It shows her over-sized turquoise earrings shine brightly.
Her scarf, vaguely Arabian, is wrapped loosely over her shoulders. Through its carefully considered gaps, her diamond flower necklace glints, settled at her sternum on her t-shirt’s yellow, thick, horizontal stripes.
The gold camera at the end of the second necklace hangs to her navel and bounces with the train against the thinner, navy stripes of the lower half of her shirt. It’s carved glass lens and black stone face twist rhythmically. (more…)
twenty »
Friday, August 19th, 2011
Harried, that’s an adequate descriptor. After the man through the revolving door in front of me shrugs her off, she’s ready. And confused.
“Do you know the city?”
Maybe. Depends on where you need to go. I smile hesitantly. (more…)
loutish »
Thursday, June 16th, 2011
Her coat is emblazoned with the logos of two dozen candy varieties. It fits tight around her bulk. She rolls her cart just inside the doors.
The man leaning at the entrance moves to the side, giving her space. She apologizes for standing so close. Her cart is centered in the doorway and she’s just to the right of it. She shifts uncomfortably from side to side, looking for another place to stand.
The bags are brimming with box items. One of the cart’s right-side wheels is warped. Her maroon sweatpants are snug, leaving two inches between them and her generic, tattered, high-top sneakers. (more…)
tend »
Thursday, September 9th, 2010
In the midst of drunk, a phone call. A friend mentioned another who was past her point and asking for me. They were on their way.
Upstairs, I found some blankets. The couch is empty. I enlist a stranger to keep it that way, with two blankets folded over its arm.
Another call, this time for directions. Only the driver had never been to the house and the others were disoriented. She was muttering. (more…)