Thursday, July 29, 2010
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Friday, July 23, 2010
Deleted
Tuesday woke up. She bundled up. Running the car warmed it. She got stuff for breakfast. She got coffee. Tuesday brought Rachel stuff but she didn’t eat. She made her drink water. Rachel didn’t look up when she opened the window. The cables that ran out of the 4 track were plugged into the laptop. It was all on the table. Rachel’s hand was on the mouse. Her arm draped from the table to her shoulder. Her eyes strained. Her wrist shook. When she looked at Tuesday, Tuesday looked at her. One of them said that they needed to get out of the fucking house. The snow had built up. They bundled up and cleaned off the car. They had chains but they didn’t know how to put them on. They slid slowly when the braked. They coasted through red lights. They drove to this park. It was bright where they parked the car. Tuesday shrugged into the layers beneath her parka. With their boots on they hiked into the woods. This path lead from the parking lot. Rachel’s phone recorded video. The light was an object because of the crappy lens. Tuesday stood in front of the camera. It shredded her edges until she was a blur in a crown of clear. When Rachel looked up the camera didn’t move with her and then it did. Shivers ran against her spine until she was splayed but whole. That’s how she felt when she shook. Snow’d built up on the branches of the evergreens that fanned out above their heads. Tuesday looked up. The spaces were sky, patterns. She balanced with her arms as her feet traced this log that was covered with snow. When she stepped off from it her boot broke through ice and swam in slush. That made the rubber stiff and slick. When the sun began to change she didn’t feel colder but the air did. The pond was just in this clearing. It wasn’t frozen because of the trees. Everything beyond it was wetlands. They could tell where the shore started because of the cat tails. Rachel kept hitting the wrong buttons on her phone because of her gloves. What they crushed with their feet was green because it was frozen. It wasn’t bright enough for the camera to work but things flashed on the screen. They appeared then dis. Rachel and Tuesday doubled back but they couldn’t tell how to get back to the car. The wind flicked a switch. The gravel in the parking lot was a frozen thing when they got there. The wind skipped off the hood of the car. It reached through fabric and grasped at skin. Rachel’s hand shook when she held the keys because of the cold. The windshield was fucked because the frost was frozen. Tuesday used a cd case to scrape what she could. Rachel ducked her head down by the dash. It was so she could see. The front door was frozen shut so Tuesday leaned against it with her shoulder. Inside they turned on the furnace and the oven. They ran the faucets. The tub was too small for two to lay in. The shower ran and steam rose.
