Tagged literature

“Blurtso parrots Papa” (IV)

 

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The terry-cloth towel hung from the hook to the left of the sink. It was stained with old blood that had dried and new blood that had not. The blade of the razor rested on a bar of soap and its handle rested on the sink. The basin was streaked with remnants of stubble and soap.

Nick returned to the kitchen when he heard the coffee. He turned off the flame and poured the thick liquid into a small cup. He added a teaspoon of sugar and stirred it with the spoon. He felt the salt air blow through the window. He could taste it on his lips.

Jim will be waiting, he thought, taking a sip from the cup. He was glad he had somewhere to go. Glad he had a reason to shave. He took another sip and picked at a crumb on the table. Any reason is enough, he thought.

“Roman éClair” (II)

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“He said what she knew and she knew what he said but she couldn’t say what she knew. They walked thirty steps and said thirty words and counted each word that they stepped. He stopped when she stopped, until he could no longer stop, then he stopped, but didn’t say what he knew because he couldn’t say anything at all.”