I can’t remember her name having spent a few hours with her said her father made his own guns and taught his children to hide them under the mattress. He was with his wife for 42 years. She left him for another man. He still lives his life like he is married. He hasn’t been with another woman since the divorce.
I can’t remember her name having spent a few hours with her was left by her boy friend after they had been together for fifteen years. I thought that she was chintzy when I saw her.  Still I liked her narrow hips and legs and wide bony shoulders and wanted to feel her naked body with mine.
I reminded myself that I can’t remember her name having spent a few hours with her had once been ten years old like my daughter. I felt a curious sensation in my left eye as if it had feeling inside it that I hadn’t felt before. Has my left eye been dead to the world? My right eye is the weaker eye and can’t take in strong light.
I can’t remember her name having spent a few hours with her had been deaf and mute when she was three and then had begun talking non stop in rambling words and sentences.
I talk a lot, she said.
That’s okay I don’t talk much, I said.
I did say something here and there and it did feel at times my voice didn’t
come from me but from above as if another person was behind me and had his hands on my shoulder.
I asked questions and C answered them. I remembered her name was C after having thought about how my voice felt like it came from my mouth and belly and not from above. C didn’t always listen to me. It would have bothered me if she had been unhappy and had forgotten about me.
I had pressure over my eyes and I was nauseous. C had dominated me
with her talking. I had to get away from her wide thin mouth. I think I saw her tongue but I didn’t remember what it looked like, how big it was. I made sure to examine her teeth
and I had a clear image of them that lingered. C’s nose looked like a rifle butt and her arms looked like two pawns defending a king on a chess board.
I’m a townie,C said. That means I lived in a town.
I had no response.
I have emotional intelligence, C said.
I smiled. I had felt nausea like this when I was polite and didn’t want someone to know that what he was doing disturbed me because I was unconvinced that what he was doing was ineffective.
C has insomnia. She read about it, she likes to do her own research on health issues, and decided that she has to stay in her bed for eight hours even if she wants to move around. She only sleeps three to four hours of the eight hours she is in bed. I felt bad for her. I can fall asleep again for five hours after I have slept for three or four hours.
Even with a graduate degree in education C, a school teacher, can feel at a loss not really knowing the nature of her middle school students.
I don’t always know what is going to happen, she said. One day a child is happy and the next he blows because of something that happened at home
Bukowski was a misogynist and a bad drunk, C said.
I know about mean drunks having been with three of them. They listened intently when I said things that hurt them because they had been mean needing a drink and not having it or having had a drink not needing it; having heard truthful tough words in a safe setting the three mean drunks had learned to accept and move on.
Kubrick was a pedophile, C said. He made Eyes Wide Shut.