from "The Lovers," Vendela Vida
09/20/2011 07:56 p.m.
The only logical thing was for him to sit back in his seat and say, "Whoa, what a mess!" But he wasn't sitting back. He wasn't talking. She needed only to get him to talk. She touched his cheek, as if to begin the process, to lead his muscles to speak. Blood coursed from his mouth and over her fingers. "Peter!" A dozen people were watching now. She sensed someone trying to pull her away. "Peter!" She wanted him to begin talking so it would be she and him again. Not these people. If only he would speak, the two of them could talk about how terrifying the accident had been, how scared he was, and how Yvonne had seen it from the video store. "I saw the car coming toward you!" she would say. "You did?" Peter would say, his eyes open in his certain way, his way of expressing utter amazement at the things that could happen in life. "Oh my God, what a nightmare," he would say. But his mouth did not move.
I am currently Brooding
I am listening to 'while my guitar gently weeps'