Monthly Archives: July 2014

2014/07/25

The Disruption of Hegemonic Comfort

By dsholloway

The clerk leaned across his counter and whispered: “Did you know that if you send the US Treasury a $2 bill, they’ll send you back $2.15?” He went on to whisper related information, but I stopped paying attention.

……….

When I was a kid my father stockpiled $2 bills in the basement of our house, sure that one day $2 bills would be the only viable currency. After he disappeared, I took his cache of $2 bills and folded things out of them.

I folded boyhood things: submarines, rocket ships, best friends. After boyhood, I folded my father’s $2 bills into weapons and electric guitars. Most recently I folded a woman and fell in love with her.

I promised to provide for my origami woman. She dismissed my masculine posturing, however, and asked only that I  never unfold her, echoing a promise I had already made to myself.

………

I unfolded her that night, the clerk’s whispers of “profit” ringing in my ears. But not before taking her out to an extravagant dinner–like, candlelight and oysters flown in from faraway. It was out of my price range, but, envisioning the money I would get for my origami woman, I wasn’t too concerned.

I ordered us another round of martinis.

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2014/07/22

Virtual Intimacies

By dsholloway

K enjoyed the night shift because it was quiet. You’d think suicidals (as they called them) would be most active at night when you’re alone with your thoughts. You’d be wrong, though. The serious suicidals do it during the day when everyone else is busy.

K enjoyed the nightshift because at 11:45 PM every night a woman would call. The first time she called, she was patched through at random. “Hello, my name is K.” etc.

Every night thereafter, she would ask for K, telling whoever might answer her call that she felt most comfortable talking to K and, do you really want to risk not letting her talk to him?

K anticipated her call even if he was otherwise preoccupied. Her life being at stake and all, he looked forward to talking her down from the ledge every night.

One night, she didn’t call. K should have presumed the worst. Instead, he presumed that she was mad at him or that she didn’t “need” him in that way anymore. He tracked down her phone number and called her, not finding anything ironic.

She answered after one ring, an unfamiliar cheer in her voice. K hung up immediately, his worst fears confirmed.

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2014/07/19

Belief Without Belief

By dsholloway

The woman got stranded in Iceland once, after following a guy she “loved” onto a raft.

She went to a casino in the capital and shoved what little money she had down the throat of a slot machine. Finding that she had a knack for that kind of thing, she won big: she bought a ticket back to the US and even had enough money left over to try and get her life back together after love fucked everything up for her. She moved to Las Vegas.

She had this favorite slot machine in the corner of her favorite casino. It was always good to her. They first met on a whim; she had a feeling about it, that’s all. They liked each other immediately and spent evenings and weekends together. She told the slot machine about being stranded in Iceland. She told the slot machine about other bad stuff, too. The slot machine was extra generous at times like those.

One day she told the slot machine about this friend that was worried about “[her] gambling addiction or whatever.” The slot machine was silent for a moment. Then it smiled a big smile and offered her more money than usual.

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2014/07/19

And So It Comes to Pass

By dsholloway

He stopped, about halfway between here and there, at a country gas station. A pretty(ish) girl was working behind the counter. He asked for directions even though he knew were he was going. Her voice was kind of cute if handled in short bursts.

He stopped again, the next year, at the same country gas station. An awful fast food restaurant had been tacked onto the outside, bringing in a fair number of travels on their way from here to there. The pretty(ish) girl was working again. She had highlights in her hair and paint on her fingernails. He asked for directions again just to see. She didn’t remember him. Besides, thanks to the fast food restaurant she had more menial duties than last year and didn’t have time for guys doing guy things.

He stops again a few years later. The country gas station is now flanked by a motel and a 24 hr. breakfast place. It is busy and he gets kind of sad. He decides not to go in to ask for directions because he feels left behind, somehow, even though he probably shouldn’t.

He pays for his gas outside (something he had been unable to do previously).

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2014/07/18

A Delineation of Tolerance

By dsholloway

He orders a Kyoto cold brew because, served as it is in a snifter, he thought it was a cocktail of some sort.

……….

Two young people are sitting across from each other, he notices, conversing in strained registers. The guy has on an Interpol T-shirt and wears a barcode tattoo on his left forearm. The woman is carefully tanned and obviously out of his league. She is drinking something from a straw. She tells him about chiropractic school and drug addiction. The guy doesn’t say much. The woman continues to tell him about how intellectuals often suffer from some sort of spinal disorder because they’re hunched over “all the fucking time.” She seems nervous; it’s probably their first date, or whatever. The guy doesn’t seem like much of a swearer–despite his Interpol T-shirt and tattoo.

……….

How did these two people find each other, he wonders from the other side of his Kyoto cold brew. They’re togetherness is off-putting, he decides. Nevertheless, it’s probably interesting–whatever happened to bring them together. But of course, it is totally not happening. Silence envelops the pair.

She looks across the room and her eyes settle on a man drinking a Kyoto cold brew. She smiles.

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2014/07/17

Emotional Effusiveness

By dsholloway

“Why did you bring that thing back,” she asked, knowing the answer. “What would you have done,” K replied, reminding her that she had been present that evening at the fat man’s house; reminding her that she had been present when the fat man forced the painting on them, exclaiming, “This one is my favorite and I want you to have it.”

How the fat man could tell “this one” apart from the others was anyone’s guess: countless framed images of Nordic women in various states of ecstasy–heads cocked, hair tousled, etc.–and undress adorned the walls of his modest middle-class home.

(Although she pretended not to overhear, she had heard the fat man whisper something like, “This one reminds me of your girlfriend,” before handing K the painting that now occupied a prominent space in their alcove.)

“It’s creepy,” she huffed before marching into the bedroom.

“I’ll throw it out tomorrow,” K said meagerly.

When K woke up in the morning his girlfriend was gone from their bed. He found her in the painting next to the Nordic, face in a frozen, forced smile, eyes pleading but also seductive, body contorted erotically and unnaturally.

He decided to keep the painting.

 

 

 

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2014/07/07

Some Versions of the Schoolboy Sin

By dsholloway

There was one bottle of wine in her wine thing that was off limits. Other wines would be bought, drank, bought again; but this particular wine was not to be quaffed unless the most spectacular occasion presented itself. She waved away his contention that the opening of a nice bottle of wine was its own occasion, offering instead: “Do something deserving of recognition, and I will open this bottle. Just for you.” An obstinate sort, he committed to doing not one “…thing deserving of recognition,” but rather many:

He cured cancer. He deflected that big meteor that was projected to destroy earth. He saved poor children. He repaired her ugly relationship with her family. He was, like, totally okay with her guy friends. He fought with rebel forces.

She was impressed by the things he did and readied to open said bottle of wine, one evening, over candlelight. “Wait,” he said, touching her hand. “Everything bad is in there–poverty, jealousy, illness. If you open that bottle the world will go back to how it was.”

She set the bottle down and moved to kiss him. But she set it too close to the edge of the dining room table.

 

 

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