Christine's Website and Relay

Father Was

admin — Sun, 07 Mar 2010 23:23:35 +0000

His father was putting in a load of laundry, pouring soap into the machine as his son ran up the stairs, which he had swept the night before. His son took after most sons in that he fled from anything that smelled of housework–especially housework that involved unscented soaps that returned to the earth in a month or less, like menstrual blood.

Multitasking Madly

admin — Thu, 17 Dec 2009 03:40:10 +0000

That afternoon, we met at the counter at three o’clock. There was daylight and some light coming down from the fluorescents and the brochure with gym pass info in it, and the rest of the lobby cold and bustling and of no consequence to me. Multitasking madly, multitasking impatiently, as anyone would. Come on debit machine. Come on printer. Her voice like a copper rivet on the pocket of a pair of black jeans: “Pay up.”

Study

admin — Thu, 17 Dec 2009 03:34:17 +0000

Strokes mustache.

Picks up a pen.

Coughs into arm crook.

Rubs cuticle with thumb.

Inputs notes, rings on fingers.

Scratches cheeks with a coin while his mother waits for an espresso.

Of On At A Sneaker

admin — Tue, 15 Dec 2009 08:15:17 +0000

In this way we have a walk to take and he remained not met because he had begun too late. When I said begun too late I meant begun too late. When I said begun too late I meant begun too late now. In such a case a sneaker is a sneaker. In such a case of on at a sneaker of on at a sneaker when, of on at a sneaker when and whither.

Popped Socket

admin — Fri, 11 Dec 2009 08:26:01 +0000

(I was stretching my mouth and I had heard this crack in my jaw. It sounded at first like nothing more than a popped socket.)

A powdery-light brow

admin — Thu, 10 Dec 2009 07:51:34 +0000

Should a powdery-light brow shade itself, move to enclose with morose gravitas a feeling–with what acrimonious fervor the lips snatch up the brow’s expression and set it free!

Port de bras

admin — Thu, 10 Dec 2009 07:48:33 +0000

She tapped her right foot on the rain-mottled sidewalk and leaned back. With a crinkle of her yellow raincoat, she lifted her arm and shed the last shreds of self-consciousness in a port de bras.

Slumber

admin — Fri, 27 Nov 2009 03:36:11 +0000

Factitive slumber.

Leap

admin — Mon, 23 Nov 2009 23:50:24 +0000

Legs and fingers spread. His clothes do not balloon in free fall–studies terrain.

Hurtles through the stratosphere.

The end of the leap looks like a tip toe.

Water up-splooshes as a goldfish leaps from one pot-shaped bowl to another.

Hobbles

admin — Sun, 22 Nov 2009 03:53:03 +0000

Hobbles down the staircase, hand on handrail. Right foot turned out. Braced ankle.