Monday, September 13, 2010

Thousand: One Hundred Thirty-Two

anything, Emily remembers thinking. She remembers thinking this so fiercely she doesn’t remember what her mother said. She vaguely remembers Eula crying. Maybe she was crying about something else. Eula is the cryingest! Working the apple around in her mouth without spilling it, or choking on it, takes Emily’s concentration for a moment. She holds her hand up in case she has to push something back in. Two drops of juice and saliva slip from the corner of her mouth. She dabs at the escape with a red napkin. The napkin has party balloons on it and is left over


Elisabeth said...

These fragments, so loaded with luscious detail, are fascinating.

It's like reading a book from the centre of one page and moving on to the centre of the next page and so on, catching snippets of story along the way.

Glenn Ingersoll said...

When I described your comment to my husband he said, "That sounds like the way you read."