One Sided Parking Lot Conversations


Volume One:

•The windup man is telling his friend, shuffle feet, about the overlapping details of a dead father’s woodworking precision. The two men unload grocery carts into the trunks of cars.

“He graduated from high school in 1961, and started working the wood in his dad’s garage. Scraps leftover from building the house.” Shuffle feet responses with a hasty head nod.

Windup man spins on: “The cabinet my father left me when he died, he past at the end of June, was his—he’d always joked—like a thesis project. ‘Intricate,’ my mom called it; ‘flowers inlaid in wood like they’d bloomed there and Gothic-era peasant women tilling and planting. So real.’ My dad had artistic connections to representations of old European agriculture. Thatched roofs, I guess.”

At windup man’s first intake of air, shuffle feet half turns his lower body—Is this the gap in traffic, he wonders?—No, the moment’s gone; suddenly it has closed as closes a line drawn in wet sand. Quick and seamless.

 
• forward to The Fomorian


K. Shawn Edgar K. | Fomalhaut K. | Lemmy Caution K. | Goth Newt K. | Undead Streaming K.•

 

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