Thursday, February 03, 2011
Thousand: Two Hundred Seventy-Five
on the door WHOMP on the door, my whole body quivering with the impact. Why don’t you come in already, I remember thinking, it’s not like I ever lock anything. My life is an open book, you know. It’s like a diary with one of those little locks on it but there’s no key to it because it’s never locked. I have no secrets. If anybody wants to know anything, they can just ask me. But the aliens, maybe they didn’t understand that, or maybe they just don’t understand human language, because I levitated, like Linda Blair in The Exorcist,
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2 comments:
The 'I' character here, Glenn whose life is open like the pages of book, to me is anything but open - rather an unreliable narrator and ever so cryptic, but he invites a certain intimacy, as if he is really all there and open.
Nothing like a really confiding intimate unreliable narrator, eh?
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