fragmentary biography

Month: April, 2012

On trying

Every now and then, she would give intellectuality a try. She’d read Kerouac and Strindberg, and join movie clubs which only showed French independent movies about buffalo shepherds in Vietnam. It was interesting, and very educative.
And of course painfully boring, too. Seriously, who gave a damn about buffalos?

On shoes

The woman had a fierce haircut and an expensive wardrobe, but she definitely lacked in leadership. In fact, the only way they could tell she was gone was that her Chanels were missing from her office. 

On streets

All year long, the old, Russian lady would wear the same, brown coat while she spent her days slowly marching up and down their street. Through her closed curtains, she could see the shadow of the lady’s feet
as she passed by the windows of her basement apartment. 

On gravity

It was like David against Goliath, only this fight would definitely be won by the big, ugly giant.

On spelling

On her way to work that year, she would pass a gray concrete wall where somebody at some point had written in angry, black capitals: “Fuck of in die!”
Sometimes the graffiti would make her smile, sometimes it wouldn’t. 

On merchandise

“No, you said 200!” the man slurred, swaying from one side to the other, his wallet in his hand. The girl took her younger friend under her arm and bobbed her head:
“But for 1 000, you’ll get us both!”
She waited patiently in line as they finished at the ATM machine. 

On looking

It was weird; when some men looked at you, you could just stand still in the light of their eyes forever, while the gaze of other men made you want to run and hide instantly.

On looks

“Can I just say, you are the most beautiful woman at this wedding! In fact, you look just like Katharine Ross!” The way the man looked at her creeped her out, but since he was a friend of her friends she felt obliged to give him one dance.
She really didn’t look anything like Katharine Ross, though.

On romance

She had read that Keith Richards sent Patti Hansen love letters written in his own blood. As for her, some flowers and maybe unclogging the shower drain every now and then would suffice.

On area codes

While she was a 6 at home, she was more like an 8 in The South. In France, too, actually. Yes, for some reason, the French found her real charming.