Untitled(a woman who survived chernobyl felt safe to walk in the forest when there wasn’t anyone in it. she was more scared of what human beings would do to her than the radiation that had killed many)Uncategorized
i had a jack daniel’s whisky. it was sweeter than maker’s mark.
i read a russian journalist’s work: a woman who survived chernobyl felt safe to walk in the forest when there wasn’t anyone in it. she was more scared of what human beings would do to her than the radiation that had killed many.
a bland man in a t-shirt said something to me about the music he was listening to. i had no patience for him or anyone else. he sensed my disinterest and looked down.
i held v’s hand and kissed her.
people are looking at us, v said.
you shouldn’t care what people think, i said.
yeah, v said.
it’s hard not to care what people think, i said.
i hated myself for feeling good that y liked how i had knifed a landowner and that all i wanted to do was tell v how he sounded when he had said it. i had to find a way to talk about him without telling her who he was even though i knew she knew who he was because there was no way that she would spend time with me had i not been associated with him.
v’s face was a run on sentence. her eyes were red. she worked last night having come in from pittsburgh. she usually travelled with one or two colleagues, men in their early thirties with families. she has all the marketing accounts at her company. she said two women burped and shared a baby for the flight.
was i a tax collector for the month? when a woman with a companion looked my way it was hard not to think she wanted me instead of him. i saw the color yellow and my victim’s mocking face. he had an odd small thumbnail.
we were in a firefight. y was all beard, side burns, long curly black locks of hair, swagger, and conscience. he was the movie star revolutionary. i wanted to
suck the sweat from his balls. he was killing soldiers on salary and worried about america invading the island nation. i wanted to lick his asshole. his men should want to die for the homeland. he spoke for the nation and the people not himself. i wanted to die for his bedroom eyes.
my mind was elsewhere. it didn’t want to think about how i had stabbed the landowner repeatedly in his face but i thought about it anyhow. i knew it had to to make it commonplace. my mind does what it does. i go where i’m needed. this day i was a tax collector, the next day i was a ghost.
v removed her pants. she had large feet for a woman. i had a limp penis
so i accepted them.
you sound like an animal, v said.
i had been wanting to kiss v when and where i wanted. i licked her eye lash. her face softened.