Terror

J.D. Salinger is dead. Obama addressed the nation, and it’s clear politics won’t change. Toyota recalled millions of their cars this week. They stopped looking for survivors in Haiti; Apple announced the iPad. It’s been the warmest January on record in Seattle, and cherry trees are starting to bloom. It smells like spring out back. I attended a summit at work to discuss the viability of 100% recyclable cups by the year 2012. There’s not enough incentive, though. The real “customer” is the earth.

My hair is thinning such that I am becoming self-conscious about my forehead. I got a blog update from a woman I will never meet who just relocated to New Zealand. She is a drunk, aspiring to write. She’s okay, but young.

I took Lily to Rudy’s barbershop for the first time, in Bellevue. A biggish woman with fishnet stockings and black eyeliner called my name, from the list. She said Lily is her favorite name, if she ever has children.

Afterwards, we crossed Bellevue Way to the Starbucks. They had their names printed on their aprons. In the corner, a woman with bleached blonde hair was reading a book titled What Men Really Want. She was taking notes, and talking to herself. I thought she had a bluetooth in, but she was talking to someone who wasn’t there.

This is the world, Lily.

About pinklightsabre

William Pearse publishes memoir, travel journals, poetry and prose, and lives in the Pacific Northwest.
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2 Responses to Terror

  1. walt walker says:

    And I am still in Texas, having not yet embarked on that nutso adventure to Ohio. There’s a 7-month old milling about somewheres, and another in the oven.

    Don’t mind me. Just poking around, curious to read something from the first three years when you said no one was reading. Weird that I picked the one where you start off stating facts that date the thing. I was sorry to see J.D. go. He was my writerly-type hero.

    Like

    • pinklightsabre says:

      You know, I don’t have a smart phone now with the WP app so I nearly missed your comment, glad I didn’t. Thanks for poking into my past, I’m flattered. Glad you picked this one, there was a whole lot of rubble and I like this, amid the others. And how you paint yourself, then. I haven’t had coffee yet so I was a bit thrown, had to reread it. It’s good to get thrown. Cheers, mate.

      Liked by 1 person

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