Sunday, September 26, 2010

my tortured attention

On the first couple pages the scene is set - intellectual Warsaw during the war and what the thinkers discussed but I was thinking of the friend I'd just run into in the lobby who'd made a question of the sentence, "You knew I separated from B (?)." I'd answered "yes," censoring the pressing questions why and when and what else and the thinkers on page 2 were smoking heavily and debating God, art and the proletariat and I was wondering about the moment I'd run into this old friend, wondering whether you could call our embrace warm or spontaneous or perfunctory. I was uncertain about everything, including what arrangements would be made for the evening when a new character was introduced whose name I didn't catch though it didn't escape my notice that he'd come with four rabbit pelts (for what purpose?) and the sole of a shoe, and yet simultaneously I was wondering about my friend, who'd gone to her room to change. I was wondering what she was going to wear, whether she's dress up and if I were underdressed and suddenly I was on page 3, where the narrator and the rabbit pelt peddler (?) entered into a small and shady business which was to be short-lived and I was wondering if I, too, just by saying so could change into something else, something more comfortable, like clouds, say, or heavy smoke.


Kathleen said...

Oh, I'm right there with you. Yes, oddly, I'm there.

Bebe said...

me too

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