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April 25, 2011
your story
Though you thought the door was open and walked in, though you did not hear how it locked behind you. There is a ghost in the machine, there is a sober deliberate whitchery. the table is set and you are wellcome as long as you remember I tell the story and you do not make any changes , you do not move anything . You just sit waiting, soon I will come down the stairs half sleep half awake, all enthusiasm and then as we sit together aat the table we decide how the story goes.
It is not written, it is not told, I need your spin on it, your input. yes , yes it does matter, it is not told, it is not written, if it was where the mischief will be, the joy of unexpected and the most I expect from you is to surprise me. use your left hand and concentrate on my left eye, please please be creative , there is a story to be told, they will be waiting, you are here and we are happy to see you. yes it could be anybody else, that would not matter, what was
of you before you entered does not matter. where we go from here matters. your individual vision, what you bring,
your eyes, your smile and the tone of your voice, your scent, the shape of your bossoms, the curve of your back,
the way your hair falls in your face and the way you look at me, please its the differences, it is the joy of a fresh
line a different hue and how your skin feels . It should not remind me of any one, for if it does, the story is corrupted, the ending , the beginning , the images, you see you should be different, and then if you are we get to play and we tell the story............
She could not understand, her middle class sensibilities and all the corruption she was fed by the snake did not help. She thought throughout the dinner,the compromises were made already, the apple half eaten browned and I knew she would find the corruption in the mirror , the scent of the dead flesh as I took the tiara away and she found herself in her torn shriveling skin, she was ugly , I bolted for the door, after all this was my fantasy, she never understood, the tiara was mine and all the enthusiasm of the heaving flesh , the potion , the interest , the camera, the lights, ....... You learn to know your limit sooner or later I thought bolting for the door.......I drove to Connecticut and once There......elation came over me.......that was close very close.........I could almost hear her hiss slithering back........
Posted by Idinraha at April 25, 2011 06:12 PM
Comments
Oooh, intoxicating! I got a bit carried away and wrote something on my blog inspired by this piece. A little trip into the woods, though I'm not sure will it goes from there...
Posted by: jen at April 26, 2011 05:06 PM
So...did I do or say something to upset you?
Posted by: jen at April 28, 2011 01:14 PM