Tuesday, 8 May 2012

Footrace for Oysters

(With a tongue full of sand & glitter, and having no desire to speak.)

Benedicte was short and scrawny, like a herring. She was a typical ballet dancer, unscrupulous and cynical. You looked at her while Jacques the barman sang loud and dissonant. It was 3am. You could hear the sea in his voice. (Dreams of Marseille)

He burned down the world. He parked in handicapped places. She rode on the merry-go-round. An exposed place to be for a serious northerner. She said: ‘You didn’t find anything, love, but that was because you weren’t looking.'

Looking out over the empty sea with wet eyes… The sea looks back, over your head. When you landed on the island, you had to make a choice. You chose not to choose. You formed an alliance with this town.

5 comments:

  1. oysters, when not houses of pearl, morcels of the sea. a stanger's doubt: you really mean tong, not tongue?

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  2. What's a tong? I be damned, of course I meant tongue. Is tong even a word in English? Thanks for noticing, I'll change it immediately. And great associationing of you with the oysters.

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  3. I was having a complete off day. Not only with writing so glumly, but also with all those mistakes. I also wrote 'scrupulous' instead of unscrupulous. Ah well... Merçi JW.

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  4. a tong? Eine Zange. Could have been possible, to pry open the oyster.

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  5. And not a Zunge. Never thought of the phonic association before.

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