Archive for the ‘Luc Reid’ Category
I’m Sorry About That Last Letter
Thursday, January 22nd, 2009
I hope you never read that letter I sent before, but if you did I hope your hair grows back and that you get a new dog. It wasn’t the direst curse I could’ve picked, you’ve gotta see that. There’s all kinds of things out there. Anyway, I was just mad because you said all those things, and even if they were pretty true they were mean, and you’ve got no cause to be mean, but I guess I don’t either.
So this one’s a blessing, even though I know I can’t make up for what I’ve done and now there can’t be no chance at all we’ll get back together soon, except you know I still love you even after all both of us’ve done. OK, what I’ve done, I guess.
Now, here’s your blessing:
May your crops be fruitful (I know you don’t have any crops, but I was thinking of that spider plant you keep just barely failing to kill, and anyway this is part of the blessing so I can’t take it out), and may wealth make its way to you through secret means, and may your sight be clear (because maybe then you could get rid of those glasses, which make you look stuck-up anyway), and may you always be able to find the one you love.
That scent you smell is the dust I had to buy that goes with the blessing. Everyone out here swears by it, even though I know it smells like dung. It cost me nearly everything I had except the pickup, and you know that piece of crap’s gonna fall apart soon anyway. Anyway, it works great and it’s going to make sure you get all your blessings.
It was that last item I particularly liked, and I thought maybe sometime after your hair grows back and the blessing’s had a while to take hold you might want to find where I am and maybe come back to me. I hope you understand why I can’t tell you where I am right now, in case you’re mad.
And if all of this is a load of crap like you always said, then you probably have your hair and no harm done, in which case I’m staying with my cousin Jesse, whom you’ll remember from that party we had once when he tried to kiss you while he was drunk.
Love,
Dan
We’re Sorry
Friday, January 9th, 2009
Unfortunately, this story is unavailable. If it were available, my best guess is that it would go something like this:
There would be a main character of some kind, trapped in a box about the size of a dishwasher. There would also be an explanation of how this had happened, and maybe some hope that he would get out–but he wouldn’t get out, at least not in the story.
There would be some sort of conversation with a person sitting on the box. The odd thing is that I think the main character would be a close friend of the person sitting on the box, but the person sitting on the box wouldn’t let him out. I don’t know why. I don’t think, in the story, that he would want to be in the box, but I might be wrong.
From there, I’m not sure. It’s possible that he’s a magician who is supposed to do an escape, but who fails. Or possibly he’s being shipped somewhere. Or he might be some kind of yogi, meditating. Actually, I just don’t know: really I’m grasping at straws now.
There would be all kinds of lush description, and while there would only be seven lines of dialog, those seven lines would be exquisitely funny. There would be some kind of pun involving a llama, but it would be a good one, not one of the old, tired ones.
And the thing that would be most striking is that by the end of the story, we wouldn’t mind that he was in the box, and neither would he. He would be happy. His friend would go away, but that would be all right. And though there would be no one there, the last thing he would say in the story would be
“Shhhhh.”