Appendix

You know you've slacked off on your blogging duties when your own site doesn't show up in the top three when you partially type in the url. So obviously I need to get better at that but I'm bad at goal setting. Anyways, in my current literary life, I've been trying to experiment with new styles. This is partially informed by getting back to my book-loving roots but also a desire to push myself and my abilities. You don't get anywhere by staying stagnant right?

Anyways, here's something pretty new and I finally got around to transcribing it this morning. Curse me and my dedication to writing on hardcopy first. It adds a few steps to the process.



Appendix:

When in fact you had never entered the shop at all. You were probably/possibly still sitting at the sun-warmed laminate of your kitchen table and I had been mistaken. I must have been mistaken.

1.

You were there. Or you were across the lawn, just out of sight. The sun warmed your shoulders instead.

Catching glimpses through a bowed-in doorway. This was an old building and the door never caught the latch quite right. It sat permanently open a fraction of an inch. Skin reflected with leaves from the window boxes and obvious sunlight. It was almost July and everything was passing in pleasant monotony.

When I looked again, the skin was replaced with an empty red velvet armchair.

2.

I suppose “replaced” isn’t the word. The chair was always there. Or at least since I walked in this morning. No one had pulled it out of the supply closet when I wasn’t looking. It had just been occupied before.

Becoming aware that the music had stopped and I hadn’t noticed it’s abrupt absence because I let my mind wander willingly back to the surveillance systems of maximum security prisons and your hands clasped over each other like a boy in cautious prayer. I had come here not to think at all and now to catch myself thinking.

3. 

I hadn’t been to church in three years and even then it had been for a baptism.

Or maybe a funeral. I had thought of other things then too.

Waiting until all of the ice in my glass had melted, leaving a watered down coffee layer like it was a sample of sedimentary rock

           

4.

            I would drink this anyways.

and the hair on my legs had grown by now. Not because of time passing but because of an overzealous air conditioning vent I had made the mistake of sitting under. My legs were coarse with goose bumps and my fingers were jumpy.

I was trying not to shiver visibly on the off chance that you could see me just then.

            5.

                        I considered looking for a trash bin. The pretense being used to turn around.

I decided against it and left the matter at that.

I felt commanding in my eventual decision although such an exercise

in willpower hardly warranted even a pat on the back.

I left soon after, checking over both shoulders before stepping into the crosswalk.

            6.        

                        My entire body felt like static.