bump

had a bump into the creek-y past.  alv dropped by to drop off some magazines and we chatted briefly and as he was about to leave he mentioned that pacey’s wife had given birth and there was probably this strange look on my face and i knew i had to explain myself and what came out was “i don’t really care.  this news means nothing to me.” and alv’s eyes were round as saucers and he ended up staying for about 15 minutes as i gave him a quick rundown of why i am saying such…horrible-sounding…things.  alv is a friend so i don’t mind telling him and he has such a hilarious way of reacting to each main point in the story that it was almost refreshing to relive the old chapters of my life.  at least there are no longer cold constrictions around the heart in the telling and no more goosebumps of rage that flashes each time i remember.

j has actually suggested that i could write a book about it, give it a lot of twists a la bantock, a la gaiman, a la hodgson.  after tonight’s spontaneous story-telling i am considering it.  it still has a lot of fuel in it. still strong scents and textures and sounds.  maybe it’s worth a draft or something.