Our mothers have the same middle name. How many more signs do you need?
More Than That!
A Guide to Good vs. Evil (prompt #23, written by Vlada)
You don’t know whether something’s good or evil?
Here are ten helpful tips:
One: turn it over, spin it on its side;
knock on its solid black vest and
listen to the echoes of swimming bullets.
Two: shoot at it and realize it’s immortal;
talk calmly to it and realize it’s dead.
Three: twist off the lid of its skull
with a firm grip and
empty the contents onto your bed.
Make separate piles for stereotypes,
prejudices, and terror.
Four: sit and get arrested.
Five: scream and get pushed over.
Six: push and get surrounded.
Seven: peer into its eyes as if through a peephole
and catch a glimpse of vulnerability.
Then turn turn turn it like a kaleidoscope
and watch the vulnerability splinter
and become other things entirely.
Watch it become violence.
Eight: forget who the enemy might be.
Get angry, get confused, get grateful.
Thank it for keeping the peace
and get arrested, get pushed over, get surrounded.
Nine: look up at it and feel the smallest you’ve ever felt;
like it is an expanding night sky
and you are a paper airplane;
like it is a sea of uncharted depth
and you are floating algae;
like it is the most dangerous heat wave of the summer
and you are a grape shrinking into a raisin.
Ten: turn it upside down
to look at the trademark symbol on the bottom of its shoe.
“It was easier to lock the door and kill the phone / Than to show my skin / Because the hardest thing is never to repent for someone else / It’s letting people in”
—
“Wake” by The Antlers
(Prompt 22)
Blind (Prompt 21, Written by Vlada)
“I’m primarily interested in questions of loneliness, The Future.” He chuckled to himself as he straightened his tie. “That’s just what interests me.”
“Mmm-hmm,” she responded, slurping her chocolate milkshake noisily. She wished a giant meteor would fall down to Earth and serendipitously interrupt the conversation. Interrupt it with Death.
“So.” His voice changed to a matter-of-fact tone. “What is the longest amount of time you’ve ever spent awake?” Without missing a beat, he continued: “For me, three full days.” He popped a small french fry into his mouth and stared at her, wide-eyed. “Three days,” he repeated for emphasis, after swallowing.
“Oh wow, I was just a minute short of three full days,” she said wistfully. Then, with a sigh: “could’ve tied.”
“A minute short!” He shook his head. He rolled a particularly long and greasy french fry through a small pool of ketchup and then dangled it above his mouth before letting it slide right down his gullet. “You know,” his gaze pierced through her eyeballs here, “we could really be something.”
***Severe extension here, folks. Things were a little crazy (the good kind) with me for a while.
Leaving (Prompt 20, Written by Vlada)
You were sitting on that old rocking chair with the floral padding and I on the wooden bench when you asked me what you should do. I remember I was staring at my knees, specifically at the runs in my stockings. I could see my pale, hairy legs through the tears. You said what do you think I should do? and then you pushed yourself back with your feet and started rocking and the chair made a creaky sound. I protected myself. I covered the runs with my hands. I said to you leave, of course! I said this was just a thing, right? and then I paused because the words stung my throat and then my tongue and even my teeth when they left my mouth. You should go. Then, as a last attempt to bury myself in a hard, green shell, I said I was actually thinking about breaking up with you. Your rocking slowed and you rubbed your hands on the arms of the chair. Oh. And that was it. I stood up and then you stood up and I said so, good luck with everything to my shoes and then I looked up at your face for the first time that entire conversation and you looked the way you did when I first met you: shy and hesitant and like you wanted to say something but couldn’t get the words in the right order.
Punishment 1, performed by Vlada (as demanded by Celine)
“Anyone Else But You” by the Moldy Peaches
My little Canadian Thanksgiving treat. Enjoy, you guys. Ugh.
Making Kittens (Prompt 19, Written by Vlada)
“I remember I was sitting on the couch, jean shorts and a tie-dye t-shirt. My hair was in a ponytail. That doesn’t matter, does it? Why would my hair be important? Anyway, my mom was holding this mug of tea—she’s always holding mugs of tea—and she was concentrating so intently on this puzzle. What was it… it was a cat! It was a bunch of kittens and balls of yarn, I don’t know. She buys these puzzles… of rainforests, toucans… random shit. She was into those 3D puzzles too, for a while. She buys them at garage sales and they’re always missing pieces. I once told her that it’s masochistic, you know, buying these used puzzles with missing pieces. Anyway, she’s staring at this puzzle, and—okay, I need to interrupt myself and just mention something quickly: what I remember the most are the veins right underneath her eyes. Even now it’s what I’m picturing. They’re always there and they’re so noticeable. It was the first time I had really looked at them, though. Blue, like her eyes. They complement her. She puts this concealer cream over the little veins in the morning and this one time as I was watching her, she said to me, ‘You know, sometimes I wonder if the people that never see my little veins really know me.’ So back to what I was saying. The puzzle! She’s sitting there and I’m staring at her little blue veins and she says, ‘You know why I do these puzzles?’ And I shook my head no, and she says, ‘I feel like I’m God, making these kittens.’ She started laughing so hard and had to put her tea mug down on the table. You know, we never had coasters at our house? Weird, isn’t it? Anyway, she’s laughing and she goes, ‘I’m putting this one kitten together, piece by piece. I’m going to give it a little nose right now.’ I asked her, ‘You feel like God?’ and she said ‘Yeah.’”
“And that’s why you think God is a woman?”
“No, that’s why I think God is my mom.”
