The big white chevy clunked and slightly shook as it travelled hard and fast down the pulled taut reptilian road...mile after mile of rolled out snake skin pavement. I sat low in the seat with my feet hanging out the window, flip flop threatening to fall off and descend down and out into oblivion. The radio blared out 'violent femmes' or else 'DMX' and i quietly read a tattered copy of last weeks "peoples weekly worker", that i had grabbed up at the unversity campus. The campus was where we were coming from, after a long and hideous fund raising meeting for a group for supporting the arts, the driver and i had joined thinking it would be something different...something fun...we had been wrong, dead wrong. The driver...we will call him Dan...for lack of a better name, yelled over at me over the sound of blaring music and ripping wind, "hey bitch! Move your foot...i can't see my mirror." i slowly pulled my feet back into the car and watched the corn
and hay whip by the window and the changing sky right right along the edge of the horizon...where the sky keeps its secrets...where the colors get torn and mixed. The blue-black curtain of evening was slowly rolling down. We kept driving. Wild, loose and weird...we did not fear being crushed under the wieght of the falling veils...we did not fear running out of road...running out of gas...running out of energy. The sight of the vice pres. Of the metioned arts club stuck hard in my mind, burning me as i casually sucked at the end of a cheap mentol cigerette. The poor things skin...blotched and ugly...looked like a road map...wrinkled and frowning...a rhinoceros with psoriasis...so sad and i quietly thanked whatever G-d there was that i was so damned pretty. "thank god" i said out loud. Dan looked at me over his big brown plastic glasses (he looked remarkably like a white DMC of run dmc fame)..."thank god, what?" "thank god im so damned pretty, man...thats what."
and hay whip by the window and the changing sky right right along the edge of the horizon...where the sky keeps its secrets...where the colors get torn and mixed. The blue-black curtain of evening was slowly rolling down. We kept driving. Wild, loose and weird...we did not fear being crushed under the wieght of the falling veils...we did not fear running out of road...running out of gas...running out of energy. The sight of the vice pres. Of the metioned arts club stuck hard in my mind, burning me as i casually sucked at the end of a cheap mentol cigerette. The poor things skin...blotched and ugly...looked like a road map...wrinkled and frowning...a rhinoceros with psoriasis...so sad and i quietly thanked whatever G-d there was that i was so damned pretty. "thank god" i said out loud. Dan looked at me over his big brown plastic glasses (he looked remarkably like a white DMC of run dmc fame)..."thank god, what?" "thank god im so damned pretty, man...thats what."
TIP:
Enter the amount, and click "Tip" to submit!
Catherine Forsythe
Kat Hudson
Christine Macdonald
Drew-Silla
Leslie Harpole
missknowit
Salon.com
Comments
-R-