Archive for March, 2009
As a couple, Mr. and Mrs. Kurtz thought of themselves as having an “Eastern” inclination. Their goal was Nirvana; their path was the Middle Way; their drink was sake; their collars were Mandarin; his weekly massages that she didn’t know about were Thai. They favored lounges where giant gold Buddhas loomed over the bar. They had Tantric sex on their tatami floors. They believed in the healing power of jade. He wore a bracelet of sandalwood beads and a goatee. She wore a necklace made from human ears . . . but only around the house.
Pre-war classic six. Accesible by raft, dugout canoe, or the 4/5/6 line. Starting at $1,300,000.
J.Cruel’s youth . . .
Sounded like: a Hummer’s engine turning over in the seniors’ parking lot, surf crashing, mall music, someone preaching the gospel, tires on the 5, seagulls, Gwen Stefani, coyote howls, tolling bells (they toll for thee).
Smelled like: yoga mats, Hot Dog on a Stick, sagebrush, oranges, Obsession by Calvin Klein, chlorine.
Looked like: red tile roof, white stucco, grass in a desert, ocean horizon, strip mall, palm tree, trucker hat.
Tasted like: fro-yo, fish tacos.
Felt like: a second skin of stretch denim from ankles to sternum . . . oppressive yet comforting.
Super-slim fit denim bodysuit with adjustable spaghetti straps and center back zip. Like your past, you will never escape it.
Maria was gone, but he knew she’d be back. Where else could she go? The nuns wouldn’t have her. They knew better than that. She might head for the hills, but the hills were alive with his spies. Perhaps she had found someone else’s curtains to massacre, someone else’s children to turn into dimwitted, harmonizing automatons. If she had, he would know soon enough. And then . . . well. How do you solve a problem like Maria? You do whatever it takes.
So long. Farewell.
Wool/cashmere onesie in Ludovico gray. Bowler hat and cable-knit toreador’s cape sold separately.