Is it the story of a girl having flashes from her past life?
…or a writer imagining his future destiny?
Is the girl insane? Is the writer vain?
Archive for the ‘Transmigrant Blues : Round 3’ Category
Spare change – Manna from heaven (Round 3 : Page 1)
Thursday, September 27th, 2007“Okay, I want to talk about Ireland. Specifically, I want to talk about the Famine. About the fact that there never really was one. There was no famine. See, Irish people were only allowed to eat potatoes. All of the other food, meat fish vegatables were shipped out of the country under armed guard to England while the Irish people starved.
Freedom’s just another word… (Round 3 : Page 2)
Sunday, October 28th, 2007“Suddenly I was in danger. I’ve never been in a fight in my life; throughout school I’d always bribed a tough kid to be my bodyguard. And as a teenager I had become a pacifist. I knew that this skinny punk could hurt me. So I gave him the four bucks or so I had in my pocket, and said, ‘Here, now you’ve got more than me.’ And I felt guilty telling that monstrous one-quarter-of-one-percent truth. While literally the case for the moment, it was a cruel mockery, for he would never have as much, no matter how hard he tried, than I had won in the lottery of birth.”
I’m losing my faith in anarchy… (Round 3 : Page 3)
Tuesday, January 1st, 2008He takes a scoopful of hummus with his pita bread. “The novelty wore off after a week or so. One day I scored a ten-dollar bill from this guy with his son. A cop had pulled him over for DUI, but having the kid in the car had gotten him a break. He was supposed to cool it for a few hours before trying to drive. ‘Son,’ he said. ‘Remember Old Pappy, the nice old man from in front of the corner store? He’s in Heaven now, but I always give to the street people in his memory. I want you to always do the same.’ It brought tears to my eyes, but also a sick feeling to my stomach, which though empty, was still counterfeit. I was nothing like sweet Old Pappy.”
Auras and Animal Totems (Round 3 : Page 4)
Sunday, January 13th, 2008A lump rises to my throat. “What do you see?” Crazy Bear sees auras and animal totems, and is regarded by several mutual acquaintances as a gifted clairvoyant. According to his third eye, I am, like him, a bear; though he claims I am a diminutive, lusty koala, while he himself is a Ukrainian black bear. The totem represents the last form, his theory holds, that a given individual occupied, prior to being human.
The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test – Round 3 : Page 6
Wednesday, January 30th, 2008She produces a small vial of amber liquid. “Laced with DMSO for fast action.” I stick out my tongue. “How deep do you want to go?” I hold up three fingers. She administers three hundred micrograms, more or less, first to me, then herself. The alcohol solvent mildly burns my tongue. I momentarily see stars. My belly tumbles in anticipation. My skin tingles.
the Hottest Thing that Ever Happened to Literature – Round 3 : Page 8
Friday, February 22nd, 2008Llewellyn gazes at me quizzically. “I just composed the first line of Ulysses,” I explain.
Portrait of the Artist – Round 3 : Page 9
Friday, March 21st, 2008“Do you want to talk about it?” Llewellyn inquires softly. She has been sitting patiently, while I absorb the implications of a lifetime.