A fascination with the blank spaces keeps this city still — the quick inhale of dawn, the white between your words — My senses stay grounded in the world’s wait, with days heavier than years and the explainable like steam skating off lakes, refusing to sustain itself. But I am always miscalculating distances, running into edges of walls, corners of conversations — everything and everyone pieced too closely together for even the body to contain itself. Never able to avoid the physicality of even our pauses, we hold ourselves tight, contain ourselves, control our selves, and lift up the space between as proof that the world noticed us enough to dismiss us.
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Readers’ Comments
- Laurel Wexman { I am re- reading this for the millionth time, through tears, once again. It is absolutely perfect! }
- Antonie Becker { Beautifully movingly written so, Thank God, the talent and ability is still somehow, miraculously, intact. }
- Jim Brennan { Garry, you mentioned this piece at the PVTU meeting - nicely written. It had me searching around, as things like this tend to do, for... }
- Dan Minnock { Hello All, Are you taking submissions for the June 2022 contest? }
- D. Oakleaf { Dear James, Thank you for sharing this outstanding essay. My father also built a "Z-Box" and I've recently taken up learning its backstory, even if... }
- F. J. Bergmann { We're near the end of 2021. When will the 2020 Fiction Contest results be announced? }
- Dawn Holmes { Blimey - what a read........we just celebrated a UK and anyone else who could make it - Cusichaca reunion at our home in Scotland -... }
- Literal Latte { Thanks, Richard, that is much appreciated! You stay safe, too! }
- Literal Latte { Hi James and Michelle (and other writers who have inquired) -- We're truly sorry about the delay. It looks like results for the fiction contest... }