![]() ![]() I thought I felt something electric in the air while we were out there. She does not strike me as a wife, definitely not a mother. I looked at her hand while she held the umbrella. Got in a few soccer games in the park with some crazy Brazilians. I don’t even have a god damned cigarette. The Opera house across the street will let out at midnight and swarms of dressy people will invade, slumming it, chatting, Puccini, Verdi, Donizetti, rows of fancy carriages lining the street, the bowed, blinkered heads of the horses, curves backs glistening in the downpour. ![]() I wouldn’t mind staying here all night and writing. It doesn’t exactly work out, but then maybe I’m ambivalent. Human beings? All these young bald guys, and women who all talk in mall accents. Most of all I have my sturdy old Mamiya 645 camera. I have my DVD’s, I have limitless cyberspace, and I have books, doors that open into a thousand places, a thousand other times, and then I am gone. Wander the city in the wee hours, drive to a lake and stare at the floating leaves.īut I like the mist, the green, the slow rivers, the smooth waves Mainly this-sit in cafes- I‘ve searched out the best espresso with richest crema, read the NY Times, try to get some clues from Eliot or Bowles or Woolf, but I remain stuck. What am I doing here? Drove cross country to escape. Her eyes are smoky.ĭid she say gallant? Well, well. She peels off the coat and there’s more black- sweater, skirt, a thin red belt that matches her lips. “God, can I buy you something, some coffee?” she said. People behind the glass stare-we are aliens. Now I kind of like being out here with her in the crazy chaos of the storm, strafed by the elements, risky, with her, blonde stranger. I gather her around the waist and we speed toward the café. ![]() But this blonde in a black coat and blue umbrella needs saving, and now she’s coming to me. She looks at the umbrella, then back at me. The rain is noisy, the traffic worse, the thunder worse still. Why is she getting out of the car in the middle of the street in a storm? Lightning lady! She’s holding up a blue umbrella, a god damn lightning rod! I have to go out there, tell her she’s crazy, in danger. ![]()
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