Fragment #6
Dawn comes up hard and fast through the window, needle to the eyes and the sick taste of metal and geraniums in his mouth. Nostrils crusted shut and an ache that goes bone deep. Done it again Dwight youve done it again youve gone and done it. Dammit. Shes gone, gone for good this time and that bitch set him up but still he wishes she was here and she wont be back. Sound of her shoes on the stairs for the last time last night. Red shoes clickety clackety highheeling across the floor out the door I mean it this time, Dwight, and Dont you dare follow me, Dwight, and Its over. Over. You stay away now down the stairs and the front door slam shut and gone babys gone shes gone for good this time. Damn bitch. Damnit Tanya, you set me up.
Her clothes in the closet still, dresses hanging bluelygreenlybrownly over there where the doors hanging open like a broken jaw, tumble of shoes on the floor all brown and black and white. No red. Shes wearing the red. Red shoes, red dress, red lips and out the door. Left it all behind and shes gone now. Gone for good. Gone for real. You do it to yourself, Dwight. She set you up but you do it to yourself, every damn time.
Eyes bleary red in the bathroom mirror, red and black the right one swollen till its just a slit just a slit. Can barely open the right eye, and what it shows is all tinged red. Red shoes, red dress, red red lips. Damnit Tanya. Black eye, red eye. Not his first black eye, not by far. Not his last, not by far. You do it to yourself Dwight, you do it to yourself.
Mouth breathing, nostrils crusted over with brownred dried blood and my god that mans fists were as big as dinner plates my god that mans fists they just kept coming and coming. Not his fault not his fault, not really. No telling what Tanyad whispered into his ear when Dwight came into the bar. No telling. Tanya, she set him up too. Set em both up and now shes gone baby gone, red dress, red lips, red shoes highheeling clickety clack across the tired lino floor. Damnit, Tanya. Damnit baby. Dwight, you do it to yourself, Dwight. Gone and underestimated the girl. Should have known better. Shes long gone, gone down those stairs in those red shoes. Gone for good.
Full disclosure: this isn’t a new fragment, but an old one pulled from the vault–though it was a freewrite when it was written, so fitting, I think, for a fragment post. It’s the beginning of a stalled collaboration project. A project I’d like to pick up again. Whaddya say, Quig?
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Dunno. But I recently saw Dennis Lehane’s “Gone, Baby, Gone” so that’s what comes to mind. Read it, too, some years back but mangaged to erase the ending from my memory bank.
Posted by: Mary K. in Rockport
Forgot to say, it’s interesting when a woman writes from a man’s pov and vice versa.
Posted by: Mary K. in Rockport
I will miss the fragments.
Posted by: marti
I, too, will miss the fragments. They always seem like a tiny glimpse into other worlds.
Posted by: Otter
Dunno. But I recently saw Dennis Lehane’s “Gone, Baby, Gone” so that’s what comes to mind. Read it, too, some years back but mangaged to erase the ending from my memory bank.
Posted by: Mary K. in Rockport
Forgot to say, it’s interesting when a woman writes from a man’s pov and vice versa.
Posted by: Mary K. in Rockport
I will miss the fragments.
Posted by: marti
I, too, will miss the fragments. They always seem like a tiny glimpse into other worlds.
Posted by: Otter
I really like “Dawn comes up hard and fast through the window,” because it seems like such a contradiction to what I imagine dawn to normally be – slow, subtle, and sleepy.
I also love the image of “the door hanging open like a broken jaw.” Powerful and raw. Reading it made me pause for a while because the image is almost like a black hole in the story that you have to ponder.
I hope you keep the fragments coming too. I like how mixed in they are with all the other stuff you post here. All of it are different parts of your life that make up who you are, so I think it fits. Also, the fragments show the complexity of who you are other than mom and knitter. What would make posting them work for you?
Posted by: Tereza
I really like “Dawn comes up hard and fast through the window,” because it seems like such a contradiction to what I imagine dawn to normally be – slow, subtle, and sleepy.
I also love the image of “the door hanging open like a broken jaw.” Powerful and raw. Reading it made me pause for a while because the image is almost like a black hole in the story that you have to ponder.
I hope you keep the fragments coming too. I like how mixed in they are with all the other stuff you post here. All of it are different parts of your life that make up who you are, so I think it fits. Also, the fragments show the complexity of who you are other than mom and knitter. What would make posting them work for you?
Posted by: Tereza