Digital Ischemia


Interview / Hut

The Lassie and The Legume

The Interview

A vast, polished wood table sits before me. I feel its gravity and its gravy veneer. Tears trickle by my nose to my lip corners, inefficiently recycling salt and emotional electrolytes. My anxious ankles curl around the chair legs until my calves are helices. Perhaps my gait will become slinkier.

Opposite me perches a dull, dumpy woman, denigrated by my besnottered miasma. She twirls a metal pen, without paper. Metal tingles in my sinuses: lightning.

It sounds wrong.
Let’s try it in the third person. And we should also mention the thing.

This is an attempt to reprise Hans Christian Andersen’s The Princess and The Pea for a 21st Century audience. Please don’t laugh.

The Hut

The hut window is a miniature snowscape. Its lower half is covered with the obligatory sloping drift. A bullet spray of flakes is welded to the upper area like limpet diamantes, frozen in a moment of their innocent descent. There is no light source, just infinite reflections of a legendary sun, from several years ago, still ricocheting with diminishing illuminatory power.

The wooden trough bed bubbles with blankets, foam, cardigans, scarves, wood chips, maize maggots, and egg cartons. And two frosted eyes.

Cecilia is a frail girl: pale, slight and quiet. Her hair has the quality of statically-electrified silk threads. However, despite her weak voice, she has a persistence that even she is uncomfortable with. Like tinnitus.

Thank you for that. Why don’t we let them make up their own minds? Without the expository short-cuts. Alright, on you go.

That was it, really, except to say that of course she’s not alone.


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