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department then started talking up easily point the telescope to the tape
some cosmetics female atrocity of a and, in turn, the room, and tune in. I
salesperson. I went on my way. never once caught anybody fucking.
Even a winter coat is all about a Which at first was VERY irritating. Until
girl’s ass looking okay. Don’t get me after some examination I discovered
wrong, the concern has plenty of merit. that I barely caught any couples even
My theory on fidelity is firmly planted TALKING to each other. Even LOOKING
in the conviction that a man needs a at each other. It was frightening.
face he can marry and an ass roughly Everybody just ignores each other. She
36 inches beneath it that makes it an watches TV, you go on the computer;
enticing idea and practice, to cheat on after a while, SWITCH, shower
it (the face) with enduring satisfaction. separately, phone call, leaf through US
Lingerie has a similar cheating element magazine, go to bed.
built into fidelity thing, too. It’s still YOU I’d kinda hoped there’d be
under there all right, but it’s covered SOMETHING perverse out there in the
in PINK for the 3.4 seconds it takes me world of apartment life. Turned out
to see it and tear the motherfucker off. there was, but not what I’d expected…
Next time BLUE! Shucks... This one girl became the star of
But the girl’s reflection kinda got to my evenings. A Japanese girl of 20 or
me. Mostly because I’ve never tried the so who arrived home to her apartment
pockets of a coat in my life when I was around 11:30pm and went about trying
looking around for a coat to keep me on 20 dresses or so from her closet in
by Brin Friesen
warm when it’s cold outside. And I’ve front of a tall mirror. One after another,
never bought a coat other than when just working herself up and tearing
it was, that day, that hour, that minute, herself down until a big fat breakdown,
The cosmetics section and a large
WAY too fucking cold to not impulse fists plunging into the mattress, bawling
window divided us. I was outside in
buy, in cold blood, a coat. her eyes out. It was like clock work
the cold watching my white breath fog
I’ve gone for plenty of girls that every weeknight (weekends I have no
up the view against the window and
were like coats without pockets. idea where she went). She always put
frantically wiping it off while a street
No comfy place. But it takes me a the same damn red dress on last every
light hung over me on Howe Street,
while to even realize it. Which is pretty time.
drooling its sad creamsical glow into
fucking dumb. But that was over a year ago and
a puddle in the gutter that’d be frozen
That girl’s reflection kinda reminded I’ve moved away. If she’s still on her
before I’d get into my front door that
me a bit of this girl I used to watch schedule, maybe in another 15 minutes
night. The girl’s reflection swivelled
at night through a telescope when I or so she’s somewhere or other near
her hips a helluva lot of degrees in one
had an apartment in the West end. that last dress working her way up to
direction then swung the other way
When I moved in I didn’t have a TV, it. Or maybe she’s wearing it right now
just as far, both times looking over her
so I borrowed a telescope off a crazy with somebody she loves who doesn’t
shoulder with a downward glance that
neighbour of my mom’s, whose dad even suspect there’s any particular
didn’t betray a result. I felt less cold
was shot in the face with a 357 magnum significance to what lies in her closet.
when she took another crack at it and
and for the last thirty years collects Maybe they have more details into her
bit her lip. She stood on her tippy-toes
shit off eBay. One of those things story than I do. Maybe not. The stars
and tucked a strand of hair behind
was a really impressive, expensive were out tonight - and maybe hers’
an ear. She arched her back a little,
telescope complete with a laser scope were too - and I always feel okay being
leaned over; kept tabs of the results
thingamabob. To make the telescope in this cosy place walking over a bridge
but never tipped her hand to me by the
into my evening entertainment I needed to get home with the water calm and
expression on her face. Without even
dependable story lines. Over a few checkered like a dance floor, the moon
once shoving her hands into the pockets
evenings I cased about 400 windows fat as Orson Welles’ cheek buttering the
of the big puffy coat, she discarded it,
for activity and bought some different sky and the clouds clumpy bits of chalk.
returned it to the rack, and abandoned
colored pieces of scotch tape and made
the whole mission for a few squirts
a constellation of all the interesting
of free perfume over in the cosmetics
rooms on MY window so that I could
avantoure | anthology of temptation
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