Thursday, October 18, 2012

Ophelia’s Flowers




“You like my Teva shoes, don’t you, Gale?” I asked.

“Actually, I think Nike shoes probably would be more cool,” Gale said.

Everyone kind of raised an eyebrow.

I said, “Gale’s being provocative. Gale’s a thrill-seeker, she likes living on the edge. Gale’s underwear doesn’t say ‘Tuesday’ or ‘Wednesday.’ Gale’s underwear says ‘What is time?’”

Everyone kind of smiled and it was close but no one actually laughed.

Gale said, “How would you know what my underwear says, Mark? You’ve never seen it.”

Everyone kind of raised an eyebrow.

I said, “I see it in my dreams, Gale. And in those underwear pictures you’re always putting up on Twitter.”

Gale yelled, “I DO NOT PUT UP UNDERWEAR PICTURES ON TWITTER!”

Everyone laughed, so I won. Gale made a face and wound-up to throw a cupcake at me, but instead unwrapped the paper from the cupcake, took a bite of the cupcake, and crumpled up the paper wrapper and threw the crumpled up wrapper at me.



I had gotten into a bad mood. People were talking about buying things from Amazon and I said I had recently bought some painting knives from Amazon, but it was an Amazon associate store, not Amazon directly.

Somebody said they had just bought one of the new Kindles, and someone else said they had just bought a DVD.

I said, “Come to think of it, just yesterday I went to Amazon to order a movie, but instead I bought a book. I bought an actual novel. Like in the old days when Amazon was a bookstore.”

Somebody said, “A book? What, you mean like with pages and a cover and everything? I remember those.” They made a face and shook their head and everyone laughed.

I was the only person in the room who had recently purchased an actual book from Amazon. It was something like the punchline of a joke. A book. And everyone laughs.

Conversation moved on to other things. Clothing. Shoes. Brand choices.

It cheered me up a little, getting something thrown at me by a beautiful woman. But to be honest down in my deepest secret soul I was still thinking about books having become something like a punchline.

Books.

It makes me want to throw something at someone but I don’t even have the vaguest idea of who I should throw something at or what I should throw.






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Machines Of Loving Grace


Aberrant Forms


Heaven From Hell


La Seule Chose Que Je Peux Faire

























1 comment:

Blogger said...

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