sometimes it
happened like this not always she wasnt sure what she heard
it fell in with the musicbehind itnestled in
the lyrics the verse its modulations falling like gaycoloured autumn leaves or grayashfluttering from above in the pipedmusic that coursed through the store she wasnt
listeningnot really she concentrated on
her optionstried to read past the marketingtried to read their fine print that
was worked and conspired very hard to dissuade her from reading she was trying
to get at the truth of the productspeeling back the layers like an onion and each
layer frustrating her eachto her mind deceptive evading the truth like a clusterfuck of attorneys or other
professionals who sang their severe circumspect vernacular lingoes to exclude
outsiders stokeanthrill insiders
sometimes it was like this
sometimes
it came in night terrorsfusillades of deathcold sweat
sometimes
she intuited it a queer feeling she had to pay attention toan itch she couldnt
scratch forced to concede to wait
until it presented
itself
this evening it was a voice
calling to her distorted making her work hard to decipher itidentify
it she couldnt hear who was speaking who
she put the boxes she held in her
hands back on the shelfshe tilted her head
her left ear upright ear up long
ago she discerned that each was more susceptible than the other to frequenciessounds she slowly rocked her head side to side to
sense which ear would be favored
Ah her name elongated
her name distorted coming from
far off
the voice
then the voice clearer
and
the clearer the voice became tears
seeped into her eyes they welled uprolled
onto her eyelidssparkled in her eyelashesslipped relieved to her sharp
cheekbones her cheeks
she wept unapologetically
she stood in the aisle weeping
she left the basket that held the
other items she intended to buy on the floor before the shelves and walked out
of the store oblivious to the eyes that saw herheads that turned to follow her out of the store onto the seldom used
sidewalk into the night marred by flickering neon glaring headlights sheets of whitepaned
storefronts that relentedgiving way to brush cultured bushes tall trees bluepaned house windows
at home thered either be a uncommitted
message on the telephone machine Give me a call or shed sit in a candlelit dark
and wait for the telephone call to come
the event not yet happenedbut soon
premonitions foreseeing neither
knowing
since
she was a girl
she befriended it
it was between the two of them
old friends
Thursdayevening, 15 2.
18
1510, Saturday,
17 2. 18
