Archive for March, 2003

March 30th, 2003

» a fragment: I

All of Anna’s dolls committed suicide sooner or later. It happened so often that there arose a complex set of rules to govern it, a series of contests, a bi-monthly festival. The attrition rate was enormous because Anna’s mother had little patience for mending, but some of the hardier or more cautious dolls claimed to remember the summer Polly Purple swept the competition for three months running. Some people claimed she’d made a deal with the dog. He did rough her up often enough, but usually she impaled herself on crooked nails or got trapped in doors or, in one brilliant afternoon, slipped free at just the right moment to lose half her hair and a whole inch off her side seam in an escalator accident that shut down mall transportation for over two hours. The porcelain dolls whispered darker stories about assisted suicides, and though no one ever said Laura’s name, everyone remembered the glass-faced princess who fell from her high perch under mysterious circumstances.

March 30th, 2003

» teehee

rum and monkey

March 14th, 2003

» spiders

This morning I flushed a spider down the sink. Taken suddenly by the terror of them, by the chill apprehension of more, I (shaking) filled my mug and poured it haphazard over the small redbrown riot of legs. It was the second I had seen in the span of a minute, the first much larger and hunkered slyly over the door of the shower room. The sink spider was small, a little pinhead body with eyelash legs, but the shower spider was a tough creature, armored and jointed and grim.

And when it was gone came the familiar guilt. The brief glimpse of foolishness, the clarity of the difference in our sizes. My wish last night for inspiration and this morning these creatures of weaving all around me, these tiny carnivorous web-making things. At Glastonbury I hampered an ant with my fingernail, made it scurry across the curve of it and over my skin, which looked suddenly rough and thick beneath the barest tickle of the translucent red insect.

I am resigned to this fear of spiders, though. This fear of all things so small.