In capital black biro letters on my left foot it says RIGHT. And on the right, LEFT. Put your best foot forward. As if we’re not confused enough.
Everything is suspended again, least of all, lastly, my shirt on the line and a checkered tea towel caught in the branches of the birch tree, stolen, dug up in the dead of one night with a trowel and ten split fingernails.
Counting down the weeks and days backwards. Exploring the roof of your mouth with no torch, not sure which way the right way up, meeting teeth and tongue barriers in the bottomless topless dark.
And a bloody trace of determined weak nails between the serrations of rib cage, from when we were angry or I was restless, flattened under a close suffocating ceiling. Or maybe just bored, or dreaming.
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Hello (currently fruitless?) Stranger,
I saw the link from your old site, and hope it’s alright for a very elderly person to drop by. Feel free to say if not. Hope all is good with you. (These are probably completely passé in these modern times, but I like them, so have one anyway : )
I was re-reading my old site for the first time since I abandoned it and thinking about how my life has been devoid of all things kiwi lately, which is really quite sad, and also wondering what happened to all my old followers (of which there were not really that many), had just clicked ‘publish’ and then there you are! Magic!
You are very elderly now? How did that happen? Is it premature aging?
Terribly elderly now, I’m afraid. Old creaky bones, and a forehead furrowed from considering vitamins and the rising cost of, well, everything, really. I’ve spent the last half hour searching the internet for some clue as to what that book was about Cassanova, that you lent to me once. Not knowing the title, the author, or really much more than “It was something to do with Cassanova, baths, artists and wedding pearls. And it was good.” is not helping in the slightest. Have mercy and tell me what it was, or I may well fall out with the internet altogether.
You are surely not totally devoid of all things kiwi? I prescribe muffins, and films featuring men in suspenders. That sounds very wrong, but you know what I mean.
I quite like the idea of appearing like magic though! And the little swirly pattern by my name too, very swish. P’raps the internet will not be banished to the outer darkness for tonight, at least..: )
Carnevale, by M.R. Lovric. I feel slightly bad I’m only just getting this now. I have images of a sleep-deprived elderly person still sitting at the computer gnashing teeth and stuttering like the man Bernard locks into the shop when he goes on holiday.
The swirly pattern only recently replaced a large question mark. If you had commented a week ago, you would have been a questionable person
Thanks! NONE of the things I remembered about the book were in the title at all, so the internet gremlins were completely at a loss. Surely there should be some sort of book-identifying page for forgetful readers. You could have a series of questions (Was it tiny / thin/ average / thick / Strange and Norrell? Was it funny / not funny / grim / distasteful childhood abuse cash in *AHEM* memoir?) Hurray, will have a look around for it now. Anyway, I certainly am a questionable person, all the very best people are.
I didn’t gnash teeth and stutter for too long, Eddie does not approve of the computer at all, and you can only type for so long before needing to appease her divine budgieness for slacking on the adoration front.
Hope you are enjoying the sunshine, and feeling a bit less kiwiless : )