Q: What do you consider the most important tool of the genius of today?
Last night was strange and sweet and can't possibly last. Bill had Cleopatra eyes and blue heels, drinks smokes and a quietness. M. found it sweet, how shy he was, and wrapped her scarf around his neck.
Bill had a quietness and blue eyes, gin in a glass and three cigarettes. Alice asked too many questions, and Minnie took way too many pictures. Mike was on the floor, wearing French sunglasses. They were dark. The room was too. Women's sunglasses, but Mike was no lady. Cigarette, ashed in a cross on his forehead. I closed my eyes when they did it to me. Minnie: "you especially have to see the beginning of this movie."
She wrote her first autobiography, not for publication but to explain herself to a few close friends. General isolation causes graphomania, but graphomania reinforces isolation. Aggravates it. Chick lit. K. waved her buffalo calendar. "This is what you look like if you don't leave."
Last night can't possibly last. Her name's Routine, nickname "Tiny." Bread, stars, pop tarts. Cigarettes, cigarettes: "I like a woman with fire."
I close my eyes when they do it to me. M. found it sweet, how shy he was, and wrapped her scarf around his neck. K. waved her buffalo calendar. "This is what you look like if you don't leave." But next she grabbed my shoulder, said it wasn't true. Her dad is a sculptor-of-large-things, and has only ever been that. They just wrote a book about him.
- Mairead Case