tuesday
jodie is cutting the bread while leonie-leonie (a waitress i haven’t seen in over a year) is counting change. the sun is beginning to set and it’s slowly getting a little cooler. has been hot today. hot. hot. gorgeous victoria is sitting at one of the tables outside with her fiancé and with a group of people i have seen here often but never liked. she looks tired and pale, cigarette in one hand, the tips of her hair in the other, curling it around her finger, then brushing it over her shoulder hectically, pulling it up front again to twist it around her finger. she only let’s go of it when she’s dipping a slice of bread. the guitar solo in wilco’s “impossible germany” makes me giddy, my leg is springing up and down nervously, now the sun is so low that the shadows on the sidewalk run up until the horizon and the light is so soft that i got sparkling skin. just realize that suzanne’s “cracking” is a about a haeccetic moment: “it’s a one time thing, it just happens a lot“
L…O…V…E
..J…O…Y
“i don’t understand you” i overhear leonie-leonie says to jodie. “it’s so hot and you’re still wearing long sleeves. don’t you find this way too hot?”
“hmpf” jodie grunts as an answer.
