December 2010
22 posts
My Christmas quote of the night -
“I’m gonna name my next kid Felony”
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No one is watching (final fragment)
She stares at him, her cigarette hovering a few inches from her mouth and waits for him to laugh. He keeps talking without looking at her,
I was driving in the canyon, listening to Elton John. Benny and the Jets. There was a car driving in front of me and I drove up really close behind them. I bumped their bumper with mine, and instead of speeding up, they slowed down. I honked my horn and I...
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No one is watching (fragment nine)
She sleeps in late the next day and then drives to the aquarium in Monterey and stares out into the depths of the ocean and watches schools of silvery barracudas swim by and giant manta rays skim across the bottom of the ocean bed and knows that no matter how many cliffs she jumps off, she will always be intimidated and overwhelmed by the sea.
She learns about jellyfish, how they have no central...
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No one is watching (fragment eight)
Sorry, what was your name?
Emily.
You’re up, Emily.
What do you mean up?
In the game. It’s easy. Someone asks a question and then everyone has to answer it. I guess it’s not really a game, because there’s no winner or anything, but … Anyway, yeah, so … What’s your biggest fear?
Hm, I guess … The ocean.
The ocean? Why?
I don’t know, it’s just so big. You know that scene in Cast Away,...
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No one is watching (fragment seven)
She drops the phone on the bed. She shouldn’t have come back here. Seeing her clothes strewn on the floor, and her camera on the dresser, her shoes under the table of this unfamiliar room, unsettles her and she darts around the room, gathering her scattered belongings, and throws them back into her suitcase and she tidies the bathroom counter and makes the bed and brushes her hair.
She does a...
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No one is watching (fragment six)
She’s done too much coke and she lays awake, cocooned in blankets watching infomercials on the TV and flinching at shadows on the ceiling until light starts to come in through the blinds and her eyes finally close.
When she wakes she feels heavy and her throat aches and there’s this pressure in her sinuses. She drinks some water and rubs her temples and she picks an orange out of the mini fridge...
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No one is watching (fragment five)
The wind grows cold and she walks to a bar down the pier and inside everyone is dressed in costumes and she sits down by the window and opens a menu and when the waitress comes over she orders a plate of vegetable tempura and a Dr. Pepper. Her food comes and she picks the batter off the broccoli and stares out of the window until it’s just a dim square of swirling fog.
The bar is full of zombies...
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No one is watching (fragment four)
She wakes up sweating, tangled in sheets, suffocating. She remembers driving through the desert in the middle of the night—the windows down, Devotchka on the stereo, cool air blowing in the car, the moon bright and low over the far off mountains—and imagining car crashes. Every time she drove underneath an overpass she envisioned a car careening over the guardrails and smashing down on hers,...
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No one is watching (fragment three)
She needs to leave. There are too many people and she can’t breathe and she wants to scream and she makes a wake through the crowd. She goes down the stairs to her room and starts pulling clothes out of drawers and off of hangers and she throws it all into a pile on her floor. She goes into the laundry room to get her suitcase and takes it back into her bedroom and finds Des sitting on her...
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No one is watching (fragment two)
In the basement it’s empty, just the distant booming bass and clacks of heels on hardwood floor. Des looks at her sitting in front of the cement wall, idly peeling the label off her beer, staring blankly at a canvas on her easel. It’s a painting of a huge Mr. Potato head, but there’s nothing on its head, it’s just a brown circle with blue shoes, a skinny white arm sitting on the ground in front...
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No one is watching (fragment one)
Emily Haze drops her cigarette to the ground and steps on it with the toe of her boot. Inside the house, Andrew finishes setting up his turntables and puts on a People Under the Stairs record and suddenly it’s very loud and very crowded and she wishes the party was over now and she could go to sleep. Pushing past sweaty bodies, she makes her way to the kitchen and pulls a beer out of the fridge...
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(I’ve been working on a story for the last month or so, but it’s pretty long and I don’t want to post it all at once, so I’m going to post a section a day for the next while. I’ve been posting bits as I’ve been writing, so I’ll delete those as they’re posted again. It may explain why my writing seems so scattered and the same phrases pop up every...
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