I cannot climb to heaven through the air. Do bodies fly upward, I wondered, and do cows really sit in our coffee? We're gathered together today to witness the divorce of metaphor and fact; our children wear their finest clothes and only later weep in front of their mirrors.Bodies cannot so easily break as minds, but they shatter like that same glass. The child carries her image like a doll down long corridors lined with lockers. Someone kept breaking into mine; I found the boy who used the marbled black binder with my father's signature scrawled inside. He said it was his, and at that moment it was. Fact is a thief we pull back from. Fact is Freddy Kreuger, or Frederick Schultz, denying us the truth of our inventions. I wondered how patients in surgery didn't wake up. The doctors keep an eye on them, my mother said. It seems funny now.
2 months ago