I read it 7 times, just to get the movement. This is a tight clock of movement, understand? I didn’t. So I read it 7 times. See, this piece jumps somehow, the way green darts of water frogs leap from the throb of my approaching push mower. Yet I can’t really tell you anything about frog-jumping. I just see this zip of jade.
I’m talking about movement:
I once knew a girl who’d been smothered with a pillow by her lover.
That’s a great opening line. And I think the girl is dead now. But then we get a quick reversal, we move back–the girl is alive, but now we are already into:
No one told me any of this before I saw her across the room at a party.
We just zipped from mythology to contemporary realism setting. We moved. It’s like a flashing light and there was something above the light and that felt very heavy on my face.
Zigzagging: producing tension by creating fluctuations of feeling to maintain a high degree of attention.
The 1st time I felt I stumbled upon some guitar-riff licking fishing poles sort of thing.
The 2nd time I studied.
the 3rd time I noted many well-rendered sensations.
The 4th time I felt wonder and envy. Who is this Lincoln Michel? [Here u go]
The 5th time I was blotto.
The 6th time I felt like a waitress leaning and waiting to pick up the dishes. I mean I was ready to write my own flash.
the 7th time I exhaled and wrote this blog post.
I was angry and never talked to the girl again.
I got a job moving boxes then lost it.
“What do you want, Mr. Lovelace?”
“Smack. To be smacked.”
Thank you, Lincoln Michel, for the Consequences.
(all images by Shannan Lee Hayes)