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Wednesday, November 28, 2012

San Lorenzo



He is a mess, a mess she doesn’t want to disentangle. She’s glad he’s not her mess, and yet there is a definite magnetism about him and his mess. Because he’s so messed up, she often thinks he must be a genius. She’s dying to, but dares not ask him if he has flashes of brilliance. She says the sentence to herself, practicing the right intonation so it doesn’t sound accusatory or jealous, facetious or snarky. Hollow. Do you have flashes of brilliance? She can’t envision the situation in which that would ever sound anything other than puerile. Do people have flashes of brilliance? She can hear him guffaw, saying, People have their head up their ass.
But she can also imagine him naked - hugely naked because, unlike Alfredo, he is huge, bulky, hairy - naked and lazy and sated and watching her from under hooded eyelids. In that lethargic state he might be capable of saying something along the lines of: flashes of brilliance. Like a shooting star, when you glimpse one on the night of San Lorenzo and it gives you a thrill, and then it’s gone and you wonder if your brain was just firing sparks off behind your eyes because the back of your neck was seizing up from staring at the goddamned sky at the stars, waiting for a shooting star so you could say you saw it, marvel at the luck of having actually seen one and then not giving up for the night, saying to yourself, to the person who is sitting there with you, one more? One more for the road? So you sit into the night, shivering, your neck twisted in a way you will never be able to straighten. And then you think you might like to replicate that. Do something that might give you that same feeling, make other people stay and watch and be unable to put their chairs away and go the fuck to bed.


HOLLOW (adjective)
3
: lacking in real value, sincerity, or substance : false,meaningless <hollow promises> hollow
 and without triumph — Ernest Beaglehole>
 


18 comments:

  1. I love this - everything about it. But my favorite part is the watching for teh shooting stars and wondering if it's just the lights flashing because of the crook in her neck. This section really made me laugh out loud, because I've been there too many times.

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    1. We write from experience, you just never know where it's gonna turn up! Thanks Kelly!

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  2. This is amazing. Funny and a little sad too, but great all around (:

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  3. Why thank you, Draug! You're too kind.

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  4. This is great. Thanks for linking up.

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  5. i like the way it flows from thought to thought in her head. you do have a way with words.

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    1. Thank you so much, rashmenon! I'm a Molly Bloom fan.

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  6. This was pretty and sad at the same time. I feel that way about shooting stars. If I see one, I just might stay up all night just hoping for another. Sometimes I don't want to go to bed because I don't want a feeling or moment or something to end. Great entry.

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    1. Thanks, Gina. Yeah, you're talking to the last one to leave the party.

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  7. I don't know how I missed this. You could never ask a person like this about brilliance. You'd need to be there beside them to experience it like watching shooting stars. I think this piece is tender and gives the character dimension.

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  8. I felt like I was inside her head, wondering about his brilliance.

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    1. Thank you, janna! that's where you're supposed to be.

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  9. Intriguing. Messes can certainly be tempting. We have the natural human inclination to untangle them, to figure them out and to find their brilliance. Bravo, this story made me think.

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    1. Thank you, Lucy! Yeah, I've had a knack for getting involved in messes.

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