“Looks like I have a type” you say, with a touch of lighthearted resignation that I long to imagine.
One has a light side and a shadow side, and a true center.
Tag dancing
Summons
Sing with me, call and I’ll respond
Play your drums
Dance with me in close embrace
Dance slowly into my open spaces, and I’ll dance into yours Continue reading “Summons”
A Common Acquaintance?
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– У вас случайно нет такого знакомого с красным лицом, тремя глазами и ожерельем из черепов? – спросил он. – Который между костров танцует? А? Ещё высокий такой? И кривыми саблями машет?
– Может быть, и есть, – сказал я вежливо, – но не могу понять о ком вы говорите. Знаете, очень общие черты. Кто угодно может оказаться.
– Виктор Пелевин, Чапаев и Пустота
Translation (by yours truly): Continue reading “A Common Acquaintance?”
Regrets
1. Tanya’s pencils
May 1994. Paris. I am at a little shop, say, on Rue Mouffetard, with Marina, Shura, Seryozhka, Tanya. I am 16, awkward and self-conscious. Tanya is 12. Tanya accidentally drops a box of little pencils Continue reading “Regrets”
The Beginning of Tango
It all began when Bill went to Iraq. Bill was tall, young, smart, handsome, recently single, and down-to-earth – for a software engineer anyway. I don’t recall Bill ever going to those video game parties the other guys were so fond of.
At Karen’s ballroom dance class in College Park, a girl introduced herself to Bill: “My name is Honey. As something sweet.” Bill responded: Continue reading “The Beginning of Tango”
Love letters understated 