Feb 2010
I have enjoyed a full six weeks since I last saw her, some very fine weeks. And two days: six weeks and two days since. I’m checking into a nice New Jersey motel.
What a fine room I’ve been given! See the bed wrapped in sheets, sitting stately like a throne.
Shapes of flowers are scattered geometrically across the surface of the sheets, patterned to please.
After I have spent a few good minutes petting the bed and pressing the flowers, I can breathe deep, free and independent in my grand indent of a room—
The air’s a bit stale. Ah, but there the closet in the corner, tucked so slyly into the corner, into the wall!
A perfect closet, I have to say; a clean cube with a proud hanging rack, made of imitation…is it oak? (the plastic much more stable than wood, of course)
It’s a fine time to get settled, so I’ll arrange my closet-things: the jacket and pants on the left, a shirt and jeans on the right.
The shirt has a pale stain at the bottom, the stain must be wine, the stain must be from some dinner we… I really don’t know how to remember I don’t know it’s just another stain.
That stain is red, like lipstick.
Well! The windows are nice and what curtains! Tall, beige and dotted with beach scenes—very picturesque. There, right there in front of me, on the curtain, sweet babes build a sandcastle, and build it so well!
Past the babes and through the window I see the parking lot—better not look there…it’s got scraggly weeds yawning through the pavement, and the road beyond leads to the city, like all roads.
What else there must be something else—there, the standing lamp in the corner. I’ll turn it on now, as its getting dark.
I need help describing it, the lamp. Only the words ‘straight,’ ‘thin,’ and ‘lost’ come to mind. In my travel thesaurus I find:
‘Spindly,’ and
‘wistful,’ ‘withdrawn.’ It is, I guess, observant and alone, that should do for now.
Here I am, laying in bed, reaching to turn down the lamp, and I realize with admiration
How wonderfully exact a copy the room’s second bed is of my own bed—starched stiff and neatly tucked at the corners, this one with a pattern of swans swimming laid across its sheets.
What a fine room I’ve been given! See the bed wrapped in sheets, sitting stately like a throne.
Shapes of flowers are scattered geometrically across the surface of the sheets, patterned to please.
After I have spent a few good minutes petting the bed and pressing the flowers, I can breathe deep, free and independent in my grand indent of a room—
The air’s a bit stale. Ah, but there the closet in the corner, tucked so slyly into the corner, into the wall!
A perfect closet, I have to say; a clean cube with a proud hanging rack, made of imitation…is it oak? (the plastic much more stable than wood, of course)
It’s a fine time to get settled, so I’ll arrange my closet-things: the jacket and pants on the left, a shirt and jeans on the right.
The shirt has a pale stain at the bottom, the stain must be wine, the stain must be from some dinner we… I really don’t know how to remember I don’t know it’s just another stain.
That stain is red, like lipstick.
Well! The windows are nice and what curtains! Tall, beige and dotted with beach scenes—very picturesque. There, right there in front of me, on the curtain, sweet babes build a sandcastle, and build it so well!
Past the babes and through the window I see the parking lot—better not look there…it’s got scraggly weeds yawning through the pavement, and the road beyond leads to the city, like all roads.
What else there must be something else—there, the standing lamp in the corner. I’ll turn it on now, as its getting dark.
I need help describing it, the lamp. Only the words ‘straight,’ ‘thin,’ and ‘lost’ come to mind. In my travel thesaurus I find:
‘Spindly,’ and
‘wistful,’ ‘withdrawn.’ It is, I guess, observant and alone, that should do for now.
Here I am, laying in bed, reaching to turn down the lamp, and I realize with admiration
How wonderfully exact a copy the room’s second bed is of my own bed—starched stiff and neatly tucked at the corners, this one with a pattern of swans swimming laid across its sheets.
