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Showing posts from June, 2017

The last of me

I did not know her but she knew me.
I passed her going the other way. On three consecutive mornings I passed her, during that trek from parking garage to office, a trek which I undertook daily, morning after morning after morning, interminably.
She smiled at me. Each morning, she smiled at me, and the smile possessed a flash of recognition… or attraction, I thought, only to remember it could not be attraction, given my disastrous cosmetic circumstances. Recognition, then.
And on the morning of the fourth day – a Thursday, as I recall – I found a convenient bench near our passing point on the sidewalk, where I sat, pretending to read. She came to me and she sat near me. She stared.
After some time had passed in this way, she said, “I’m Leija. You do not know me but I know you.”

Consider the axolotl

I am talking of frogs and toads and salamanders. That sort of thing. That’s what you’re getting this time out.
And because I don’t know where else to start and because I don’t know how much you’ve already heard, I will review the amphibian life cycle. It goes like this: They all start out as eggs. No great shouts of surprise there, I suppose. And from these eggs hatch larvae, which might not surprise you, either, or at least won’t from now on, now that I’ve told you.
Tadpoles are larvae, but then they change. Metamorphosize. They grow arms and they grow legs and they climb up out of the water. Hop up out of the water, rather, if you’re a stickler for verbs. Once up here with the rest of us, they eat and they sleep. Meet other amphibians. Find jobs. Read literature. Ponder the meaning of life, maybe, I don’t know.
But now consider the axolotl.

When in doubt, quote Eugene Debs

I remember much of what happened. Certainly enough that I can tell you about it. For instance, I remember a rush of air upon my face as my client fled the courtroom. Yes. Perhaps the flag waved a bit in her tailwind, if there was a flag and probably there was, because there is always a flag, isn’t there?
I know I remember the gasp from the gallery. The bailiff bearing chase. And my departing client – an albino transgender lady in impossibly high heels – either pulling or pushing at the door to knock aside a small Asian gentleman who was trying to come inside.
“Counselor!” the Justice of the Peace said to me, for I was the lawyer. “This is not the first time my bailiff has had to call for backup on one of your clients.”
I specifically remember hearing screams from out in the hallway.