03 August 2011


coincidences, coincidences, coincidences. like being inspired by a pianist showing off the spread of her fingers into placing my hand on three stranger's hands, to compare, and finding out my hand to be the same size and width than a man's who's born on the exact same day as I. or like robert pirsig and lila, a name referring to a color which, again, first time in three years beamed behind my eyelids the other night as I was falling asleep on a couch, like I've done on different couches for a week. beamed before I read the first page, which, as such, is the coincidence of coincidences;

“lila didn't know he was here. she was sound asleep, apparently in some fearful dream. in the darkness he heard a grating sound of her teeth and felt her body suddenly turn as she struggled against some menace only she could see.

the light from the open hatch above was so dim it concealed whatever lines of cosmetics and age were there and now she looked softly cherubic, like a small girl with blond hair, wide cheekbones, a small turned-up nose, and a common child's face that seemed so familiar it attracted a certain natural affection. he got the feeling that when morning came she should pop open her sky-blue eyes and they should sparkle with excitement at the prospect of a new day of sunlight and parents smiling and maybe bacon cooking on the stove and happiness everywhere.

but that wasn't how it would be. when lila's eyes opened in a hung-over daze she'd look into the features of a gray-haired man she wouldn't even remember - someone she met in a bar the previous night. her nausea and headache might produce some remorse and self-contempt but not much, he thought - she'd been through this many times - and she'd slowly try to figure out how to return to whatever life she'd been leading before she met this one.

her voice murmured something like 'look out!' then she said something unintelligible and turned away, then pulled the blanket up around her head, perhaps against the cold breeze that came down through the open hatch. the berth of the sailboat was so narrow that this turn of her body brought her up against him again and he felt the whole length of her and then her warmth. an earlier lust came back and his arm went over her so that his hand held her breast - full there but too soft, like something over-ripe that would soon go bad.”


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