Firefly Magazine

VII

AJournalofLuminousWriting

OldRustyCarnivalBus|
IvanGrebenshikov

TableofContents

OldRustyCarnivalBus|IvanGrebenshikov.......1
Poetry
Whispers|PaulaGibson........4
WrittentoOneofMySelvesinanAlternateUniverse|RobertS.King.......5
MyCatwasMadeofHolyWater|LauraManardo........7
Vestiges|M.DrewWilliams..8
APre-RaphaeliteJourneystotheCoast|AaronLembo...10
TheWeightofWater|CourtneyLeBlanc.....12
BeVainGirlandLikeIt|JuanitaRey.....14
CelestialBodies|ElizabethGibson...16
AMovementofNightwithYouinIt|CodyWilson...20
FlashFiction
PapaSmurfsRevenge|SafiaMoore...22
2LoversonaHillinRomania|AlinaStefanescu23
UncleTommy|KatieJones....24
RushHourCrush|ChristinaTaylor...25
WhatGrouponSays|L.L.Madrid.26
Reincarnation|JayMerill....27

ShortStories
LimestoneintheWinter|ThomasElson..29
Johannes|LorrieHartshorn...37
Ostinato|NatalieGorbina..40
Music|KristyKerruish.44

TheArtists

POETRY

Whispers|
PaulaGibson

Featured Poem
WRITTENTOONEOFMYSELVESINANALTERNATEUNIVERSE|
RobertS.King

Youmayneverreadbetweentheselines
orevenalongtheselines,
butwouldthatwordswerewormholes.
Icantcanyou?breakthrough
theairsacsandstarbagswelivein,
thebubblesthatmayburstorcollapse
andsimplynolongerare,thusneverwere.

Thenwhatdoesitmatterorantimatter?
Whenonemirrorshattersintostardust,
dowebothdie?

Isensefromthecrackleofmyhair
andthescrambledsignalsofmyinnerear

thatlikemeyouarestaringup
tothemembraneborderofyourworld,
pokingyourfingerinthethicksky
tomakeawaveorholetoheaven.

Somywordsareyours.
Perhaps,then,weshineinthesame
starlighttonight,thesame
electricairthatleaksthrough
onthestringtheorytyingustogether.
Idreamtonightthatourvoices
crosstheline,thatourfingertips
touchfromoppositesidesoftheskywall,
anduponthestarswegetourwish
andhearourechoesanswer.

MYCATWASMADEOFHOLYWATER|
LauraManardo

whenItoldmyboyfriend
thatIneeded
anewliver.
Theonlyone
Itoldwasher,eyesyellow,
fixedtomealways
likeablackenedbulb.
Shecleansedmeofmysins
thenightIopenedmyselfup
onthebathroomfloor.
Iwantedtopullout
anorgan,afossil.
Shecleansedmeofmysins.
Mysinslikeadarkhoney,
achildonamothersback.

VESTIGES|
M.DrewWilliams

It'sdifficult
knowingthat
thetinycircles

anindexfinger
inscribedneatly
abovethedoor

inathinlayer
ofgrayishdust
wereputthere

byyoubefore
thesickness,
cloistereddeep

inyourheart,
didwhatwe

knewitwould.

APRE-RAPHAELITEJOURNEYSTOTHECOAST|
AaronLembo

Waitingonaplatformheday-dreamsaboutlostsheep
andwildbrambles.Hiseaselrestsagainsthisrakeleg.
Hisgrinwidensashehearstheindustrialclickclack
ofanewsteamtrainapproaching,startingtoslowdown.

Insidehisjacketpocketisasmallwoodenbox,
insidethishand-carvedboxresidesapigsbladder
sealedwithstring,insidethepigsbladder:
powderedpigmentsofcolour,hispaints,
keptsafebeforebeingmixedwithanoilymatter,
crushedandcutwithasharpedgedinstrument.

Hecarriesablackbottleofalchemy
whichloosenshisimagination,theflickofhiswrist.
Anexperimentalistwhopossessascientificfidelity.
Heseekstoobservetherollinghills,thesandydunes
neartheshore,waitingforamomentofstillness.
Oncefoundtheeaselispositionedcorrectly

10

andheendeavourstoexpressthemicroscopicdetail.

Hewandersandsmellseachlilyhepasses,
hegaugesthecattleheseesinthedistance,
henoticesthemultitudeofdifferentbirds
flyingoverhead,searchingforscrapsoffood.
Bynightfallheisintoxicated,slighthallucinations
beginasheboardsthetrainwhichbringshimback.

Cloudsofblacksmogvanishintotheindigo
skylinewhileourartistenvisageshismuse,
hisstark-nakedmodelwhoteases
thatheshouldjoinherintheripplingwaters,
shewarnshimabouterosion,
helooksathismultiplesketches
andwailsinhiscarriage,
takinghimbacktoLondon.

11

THEWEIGHTOFWATER|
CourtneyLeBlanc

Youpullmedown,yourlove
theweightofwater,capable

ofbothdrowningandquenching
thirst.

Thisisatimeoftreading
water,Iamfighting

tokeepusabovethewaves,
ourrelationshipslipping,theweight

sinkingthroughmywetfingers.
Ipullinlongstrokes,Ilearned

toswimasachild,summer
lessonsatthelocalpool.

12

Idipmyheadbeneaththeblue
thenturnandbreathetheclear

airasIsurface.Idragus
totheshore,liebackonthegrainysand.

Catchmybreathbeforewadingbackin.

13

BEVAINGIRLANDLIKEIT|
JuanitaRey

WhenIwassick,
Iseldomworeshoesatall.
Nowheelsclipclop
alongthesidewalk,
announcemelouder
thanadrummajor.

Andmakeupnever
botheredmyfacemuch.
Howdoyoucolorbloat?
Butnowtintshavereenteredmylife.
Andmylipsburn
redandsultry.

Myhairsawacomb
aboutasoftenasIsawthedoctor.
Itsstillamess
butatleast

14

itanswerstothenamewindtousled.

Forfourmonthsormore,
Ikepttomyself,
rarelysawmyfriends.
Imissedthemsure
butnotasmuchasmyvanity.

15

CELESTIALBODIES|
ElizabethGibson

Lookatyou,youreallyarethesun
anditsraining.

Imsorry,hey,Iknowclichsareannoying.Butif
theysawyou,luminescent,therewouldbenodoubt.

Iwasthemoon,Iguess.TheysaidIwas
yourotherhalfsowhatwouldthatbe
thesundoesntreallyneedone,doesit,
itisself-sufficientinitsexcellence.
Ithurts.Nothowmuchyoudontneed
me,youknowInevercared.But
howgoodyouwere.Howstunning.You
hurttheeyes.

Youmadeflickersinthenight,made
shadowscreepupthewalls.Wolvesand
Indianswithmyhands.Childish.Butit

16

wasmyjobtobethechildishone.

Howcolourfulthingswerewithyou.I
couldemitonlywaves,theysweptfrom
meinanangrypuddle
thatIdidntunderstand.
Iwassuchahappysoul,they
say,buttheanger,it
scaredme.Is
moonlightsupposedtobe
angry?Iguess
Ipulledthetides.

ThereweretimesIcouldntimaginelifewithoutyou,
honestly,andIknowthatkindoftalk
wouldupsetyouwell,alittle.
Itcouldupsetmealot.Maybe
Iwasindenial.

Itsrainingnow,soheavily,andwhenIlookat

17

you,yourskinandhair,Icanseeripplesoflight
butIfearforyou.Iamthesatellite,morethan
ever,Iamorbitingyoubutamontheoutside.
DoyouknowIworry?Idowonderwhat
happensinthatheadnow,
thatfadingbeacon.

Iwasverylittlealone.ButIwas.Iexisted.
Withoutthesunthemoonwouldnotshineatall.

Butyou,
you
.Tryingtothinkoflife
withoutyouseemsstupid.Pointless.

Iloveyou,youknow.Afterallthistime.
ButfromwhereImsitting,perched
insomefarreachoftheuniverseandmoving
furtheraway,
Icanfeelthewaveslappinghelplesslyatmysides,
sohelplessly.
Icandonothing.

18

Youaresetting,mylove
andIhavenoidea
howmyexistencewillchangewhenyoudisappearfromit.

Oh,towalkoverandhugyou!Butthatwasneverus
wehadmassesofspacebetweenus,Idont
knowhowmuch,Imjustapoet,notascientist
incaseyouhadsomehow
notguessed.

19

AMOVEMENTOFNIGHTWITHYOUINIT|
CodyWilson

Thebedhardlymoveswhenyoudo.
Youwhiskawaymywarmth
likeatwirlingdress.Ifeel
thesilkofcoldtugatthehairs

onmyarms.Youmovetothefloor
toadjustyourspine,disappearbelow
thecurveofbed.Fromthebathroom,
youranklespoplikeasettlinghouse
asyoubendthemagainstthetile.

Coldnowcreepsthesheets.Ikick
mylegsforfriction,aprotractor
sweepinghalves,asearchparty
foryouralmostskin.

20

FLASH FICTION

Trees|
IvanGrebenshikov

21

Featured Flash

PAPASMURFSREVENGE|
SafiaMoore

SatchwastheuglieststreakofpissthissideoftheAtlantic.Hefarmedwithhistwo
sisters,MaudandMartha,unmarriedandunloved.Gaunttheywere,nofemininecurves
orsoftness,allangles.Butatleastthewomenweresparedthenose.Aninflated
carbuncle,achameleonflirtingwiththeseasons,itdefiedanaccuratedescription.
Satch'snosehadussearchingthedictionaryforwordslike
vermillion
and
magenta
.
Althoughoccasionallyblue,itwastheshapespawnedhisnickname,PapaSmurf;
perfectforabachelorfarmerandall-roundpitiablebastardwithasmurf'sbarearsein
themiddleofhisface.
Somenightsweclimbedontotheirroof.Theyhadnotellytomuffleourstepson
theslimgreyslates,sowecreptonourelbowslikesquaddies.Wedraggedclodsofturf
outofourpockets,stillmoist,thegrassintact,anddroppedthemdownthechimney.We
shimmiedoffthescullery'slowroofanddissolvedintothewoodsbeforebelchingsmoke
broughtSatchintotheyard.
Godforgiveye,hehollered.
Behindhim,oneofthesisters,livid,screeched,'We'llgeldthelottaye!
Satchfinallycrackedwhenwefastenedabridesveiltoaewe,tetheredherto
thebumperofhisoldFord,andpaintedIdoonthebonnet.Hewaiteduntillastorders,
thenbargedintotheHarbourInn,doublebarrelsfirst.
Godforgiveme,hesaid,raisingtheshotgun.
Silence.Nobodylaughingnow.Satchturnedtheweapon,positioneditprecisely,
hisoverlongarmsatlastablessingasheshothisnosecleanoff.Theysaynotasound
passedhislipsuntilthenextmorninginhospitalwithMaudandMarthabyhisbedside,
bewildered.Hedidn'topenhiseyes,justwhispered.
WhoforgivesGod?

22

2LOVERSONAHILLINROMANIA|
AlinaStefanescu

Theshortnessofbreathwasbiggerthanalltheotherfirstswedsharedthusfar.Only
theviewanditsaccounting.Ahillweclimbedaboveallotherstoascendintothespace
abovetheTransylvanianvillage.Tokeepitbelow.Weweresoproudstandingon
Dealul
luiPipa
thepianistandthepoetourheartsstackedlikehayagainsttheseasonsto
come.Yousaidtimewillflyandthenwellbemarried.Oh,thewordsfitmelikeaheavy
brocade,aclashoffleshagainstfabric.YoupromisedthemanywaywhileIofferedyou
themusic.Windwhistledthroughthespacesbetweenus.Irelinquishedthewords
withoutsayingtheybetrayedus.DidIremovemywhiteembroideredblousesoyou
couldadmiretheprojectileeffectoffrozennipples?Inthatsummerafterhighschoolwe
celebratedbybackpackingthroughEuropebeforepackingoffonseparate
scholarships.LovehotonourcheeksatnightIreadarticlesaloudoverthephone.That
waslater.Toolate.Gobacktoahillwiththeextratenpoundsonyourframe,abucketof
goldencurls,youhadneverbeensohandsome.Neversodesiredasthen.Alreadythe
landscapesubduedtwoloversontheshepherdshill.Thesunhadteeth.Cloudsaltered
theworldwilly-nilly.Twomonthsboardingtrains,sleepinginshipyards,pillarsof
unrepentantflesh.Youreyeslovedmetopieces.Thepiecescamelater.Twomonths
withouttouchingapianoasIscribbledinnotebooksneverthinkinghowstrangeitwas
youthrivedwithoutmusic.Iburiedyoualivethetastemetallic,anoldcrave,agirlwho
savorsbloodsuckedfromun-scabbedmosquitobites.

23

UNCLETOMMY|
KatieJones

UncleTommysbeenfordinner.Mymothersolderbrother,herfavourite.
UncleTommysadrinker.Asmokerandagambler,too.Helikesabetonthe
horses.TheGee-Gees,heusedtocallthemwhenIwasakid,ridingmeupanddown
onhisknee.
Healwaysturnedupwhenhedhadabigwin.Burstinginthebackdoorofthe
house,shouting,
wheresthatprettylittlenieceofmine?Igotsomethingforher.
Mumwouldpushmeforward,andUncleTommywouldswingmehigh,theskirt
ofmypinaforedressrisingup.Hedkissmeonthemouth,thehairsofhisfatmoustache
rubbingcoarselyagainstmysoftcheek.Hestankofwhiskyandaleandcigarsmoke.
IhatedthisritualandcouldntwaituntilIwastoobigforit.
Hethrewhiscasharound,bringinglarge,strangecolouredteddybearsforme;
flowersforMumandagoodbottleofwhiskeyforDad.Dadwouldinsistonopeningthe
bottleafterdinner,andtheydbothgetdrunkandsingrowdybar-roomsongslateinto
thenight.
Istillhaveastackofthoseawfulteddybearslurkinginthebackofmywardrobe,
tinyiridescentfibresoccasionallymakingtheirwayontomyclothes.
UncleTommyhadabigwinonthehorsestoday.Hedoesntbringtheteddies
anymore,Imalmostawomannow,hesays,withawink.
IcanhearhimsingingasadlamentwithDaddownstairsnow.OnceDadfalls
asleep,hellmakehisdrunkenwayuptobed.
Mumthinkshesleepsinthespareroom,onthemakeshiftbedsheleavesforhim.
Shenevernoticesthestenchofcigarsmokeandwhiskeysalivastainingmy
pillowcase.

24

RUSHHOURCRUSH|
ChristinaTaylor

Mondaymorning;trappedinhissmileIdontknowmyleftfrommyrightorforwards
frombackwards.Theressomethingaboutthewayhelooksatmethatrootsmetothe
spot.Imoveonlywhenthehuddleofbodiesbehindpushesmeforwardsalmostintohis
arms.Despitethecoldrainsteamrisesfrommybody.
Whereto?heasks.IwanttotellhimIwillgowhereverhegoesbutinsteadIbite
mytongueandmumbleIdontknow.Theedgesofhismouthliftupforasecond,bright
asanewbornsun;Iblinktoletmymemorycaptureit.Theresavolcanictremorinmy
handsasIsearchforcoinsinmypurse,handoverthemoneyandletmyfingersgraze
his.NowImchargedwithenoughenergytolastallday.
BaskinginhisheatIshrugoffmycoatandtakeinthescenery;thesnaketattoo
onhisneckshimmeringinbrokenraysoflight,stranglinghimtosilence.Hisclenched
fists,raisingthetendonsinhisarmslikerope.Iwishthosearmswouldtiemeupand
neverletmego.
Iaskifwerethereyet.Duskdarkenshisfacewithafrown.
Soon,hegrunts,amanoffewwords.Hedoesntneedsonnetstoproclaimhis
love;IknowitasIknowhowtobreathe.
Seeyoutomorrowthen?IsayasIgetoffthebus.
Hedoesntsaygoodbye,justdriveson.

25

WHATGROUPONSAYS|
L.L.Madrid

Anewstay-at-home-mother,EloisesavorsthereadingofherGrouponemails,which
possessthesamewhimsicalacuityasherdailyhoroscope.
Thebigdataknowswhatsheneeds,oftenbeforesheherselfdoes.Whenthe
pregnancyweightthateveryonepromisedwouldmeltawaywithbreastfeedinginstead
clingslikeanapronoffat,heremailsuggestsHydroxycutsupplements($19.99)and
Zumba($26).Ahalf-joking,allcruelremarkon
pudge
,fromherhusbandAdamand
Grouponseveningblastcommiserateswithawine-and-chocolatesubscription($34.99,
monthly).Accountsettingsalteredto
savecreditcardinformation
.
Eloisehidesthebootyinthewalk-incloset.BetweenBabyscryingboutsshesits
beneathAdamsbutton-ups,drinkingwineanddevouringtruffles,suckingthenougat
likemarrowfromabone.Refreshedandatouchfuzzy,sheslipsouttocootoBaby.
Nomorebreastfeedingtonight,andanyway,BabyprefersEloisetipsy.
BreastFlowbottles($9.05).
Adamsleepsintheguestroom.Henolongertouchesher,notevendeigninghis
breathtotroublethenapeofherneck.
Withpropheticcertainty,sheknowsAdamischeating.Hewontleaveifshe
doesntconfronthim.Doesshewantto?Shesanokaymotherbutwouldmakea
terriblesingleone.HebefriendsformidablelawyersShecantoutmaneuverhim.
Dealoftheday:LovehoneyLelofor
advancedvibratorusers
($99.99).Purchased
withouthesitation.
Anargumentstartsoverthebankstatementandendswithabackhand.Ends
withAdamapologizing,blamingBaby,work,stress,and
youjustlookhowyouvelet
yourselfgo.
Endswithmeaculpaflowersandtake-out.
Numb,Eloisechecksheremail.
Barnwoodframedcanvasfamilyportrait($48.99).
A$10-offcouponpopsup.Eloisesfingerhoversover
buy-now
.
Babywails.Puttingthetabletaway,EloisevowstodowhateverGroupon
recommendstomorrow.

26

REINCARNATION|
JayMerill

IseehimthroughthewindowofthestoreinPimlicopretendingnottonoticewhereIve
gone.ThenheturnsawayasifhedoesntcareifImherebehindtheglassorifIveleft
forgood.ButIknowhedoes.Icounttofiveslowly,seehisheadturnback.Poorboy.He
likestoplayitcoolbutthatsnotreallyhim.
Filippo,Icall.ItsFuzz.
Youcouldntbeblamedforthinkingthatscruffylittlebeastouttherewas
Fuzz
butno,itsme.Itbecamemynicknameafterallmyhairdroppedout.WhenFilippothe
Flamencodancerdied.
Iholduphisfavedog-dinner,swivelthecan.Dogswatchingmeintentlywithhis
scepticallook.WondersifImgoingtobuyitorputitback,Iknowhim.Heseverybitas
suspiciousashisnamesake.Hemakesmesmile.Likestokeephiseyeonthings,afraid
theworldwillfallapartifheforgets.
Sleepsthenightthroughwithoneeyeopen.OldFilippowasjustthesame.Thats
whyhegotdrawninbyskunkandbooze.Neededtherelease.Dogs,youresaferwith.
Dontknowaboutallthestuffyoucangetintosotheyrebetteroff.
AfterFilippohadgoneIthoughtIdgoinsane.Wasdesperatebutdidntwantto
sharemysleeping-bagwithanybodyelse,wedbeenthatclose.Ilaythroughthosefirst
nights;couldhardlymoveforgrief.Thentheopposite:Istartedwalkingforthesakeofit.
GottothepointwhereIcouldntkeepstill.
FoundthisstraydoghangingroundonTachbrookStreetalla-shiver.Ahairy
bag-o-bones.Pickedhimupandslippedhimintomyinsidepocket,keepingmyhand
tightroundhim.Littlefella,justapup.ThingswentquietandIwonderedifthepoorsod
wasdead.Thenallofasuddenhestartedlickingandmyhandfeltmoistandstickylike
whenFilippokissedmyfingersonebyone.Itjoltedme.Soseemedonlyrightandproper
tocallthelittlefellaFilippotoo.
Theyrealikeinsomanyways,thetwoFilipposinmylife.Hardtoimaginetheyre
notoneandthesame.Bothsmellingsomethingrottenwhenitsraining.Bothlookingat
meabitoldfashionedlikewithaquestion-markandfurrowedbrow.Bothcuddlingup
closeinthesleeping-bag,nights,asiftheydidnteverwanttoletmego.OldFilippomay
bedeadandgonebuthisspiritlivesonisthewayIlookatit.
Whenheseesmegotothetillthetailstartstowagandhisearsprickup.Hes
dippinghishead,pawingattheair.Theresnosightlikeahappydogforliftingyou.
IclickthecanofhismuchlovedmeatydinnerandFilippoprancesroundin
circles,stampshisfeet,beginstotwirl.

27

SHORT STORIES

Untitled|
IvanGrebenshikov

28

Featured Short
LIMESTONEINTHEWATER|
ThomasElson
I.
ShirleyandJacobLawsonhadbeenaloneandcoldsincetheeveningoftheirthird
anniversary,whenshewasburiedforthefirsttime.

JacobknewShirleywasengagedinanextramaritalaffair.Hewitnessedoneofher
assignationswhilehiddeninsidetheirbedroomcloset,thenplantedbuggingdevicesin
theirbedroomanddiscoveredthetruthofhercampingtrips;nevertheless,heresisted
hiswifesdemandsforadivorceunlesstheyfirstattendedmarriagecounseling.She
choseamarriageencounterweekend.
Yearsearlier,Jacob,amastercarpenterwithcroppedblackhairandaclean-shaven
facethatannouncedhewoulddoanythingforacceptance,hadlatchedhiseyesonto
Shirleysclassicmid-westernface,Irishbreadth,andNorwegianstrengthcommonin
thatarea.ToJacob,thistall,intensetwenty-sixyearoldwasunique.
Ihadtohaveher.

Insatiable.

Shirley,tallwithflawlesshairandteeth,moresociallyadeptandambitiousthanher
husband,workedasaparalegalatalargelawfirminBerdan,thecountyseat.Six
monthsearlier,sheenrolledinaseminarinKansasCity,Missouri.Herfivefootteninch
glideacrossthemeetinghallcaughttheeyeofDanBierley,aseniorprosecutorinthe
CountyAttorneysoffice.Hemaneuveredhimselfnexttoherjustastheopening
speakerbegan.
Theeveningoftheseminar,ShirleyandBierleymadeanattractivecoupleatthe
RestaurantonthePlaza.Theownerdesignedittoresembleaclubhevisitedin
29

Canterbury,England.NothinglikeitinKansasCity.ProbablynothinglikeitinCanterbury
either,buttoShirley,itseemedglamorous.ShewasflatteredbyBierleysattention;he
baskedinthechangeofpacefromhismarriage.Theyremainedtogethertheentire
weekend.

II.
Shewasalwaysaquicklearner,andlearnedtheonethingmenwantedmostwhenshe
losthervirginityattheageoffifteen.Thatonethingmaydifferinspecificsamong
differentmen,but,intheend,itcouldbereducedtoasingle,crystallinethingan
illusion.Shepossessedapreternaturalskilltodiscernwhichillusionamancraved.She
thoughtofherselfasmerelydeliveringherpartofthebargainexchanginggoodsand
services.ToShirleythiswasthepriceoflivingamongintrusivemen.
HerfirsthusbandwantedtheillusionofthehelplessvirginShirleywantedthefreedom
tobeawayfromherparents.Hegranted;sheacceded.Twoandahalfyearsintotheir
marriage,hecommittedsuicide.Sheconsoledherselfthathewasmentallyunbalanced
-plustherewashisinsurance.
Hersecondhusband,Jacob,wantedastrong,authoritativewoman,andtreatedsexas
ifitwereacabinetprojectwithassignedstepstobecompletedinstrictsequence.
Bierleywantedafreedom-lovingcoltwillingtoroamanywhere.Overtime,however,his
passiondescendedintopossession,thenasenseofentitlement,andthenintoan
almostcoldexerciseofpower,which,atfirst,mesmerized,thenfrightened,andrecently
repelledher.

III.
Fortheirthirdanniversary,ShirleyarrangedtomeetJacobattheNinnescahRestaurant
inBerdan.
Shirleyplannedthisdinnerforweeks,eventothepointofcallingJacobtoremindhim.
Hedrovetopickherup;theyhadanargumentaboutwhichcartotakeandtook
separatecars,arrivingattherestaurantwithinminutesofeachother.

30

Atthetable,Jacobshuffledhisclothnapkinfromlefttoright,andthensaid,Areyoustill
planningtotakethatcampingtrip?
Shirleywassilent.Shehaddiscussedthismultipletimes.Hercampingtripswereher
business.Whomshewentoutwithwasherbusiness.HerdwindlinginterestinJacob
washerbusiness.
Jacobthenbroughtuptheirmarriagecounseling.Wehadthatmarriage-counseling
weekendjustamonthago.Sheheardtheeagernessinhisvoice.Whenwechecked-in
thatfirstnight,Iwassurprisedthatyoumadereservationsforustosharearoom.She
rememberedthatfirstnight,theyhadmadelove;shemadesuretheirsecondnightwas
evenmoreintense.
Whenshemethiseyes,Jacobcontinued,Ithoughtweweretherebecauseofmarriage
problems.Butyouactedlikewehadnone.Likeitwasourhoneymoon.
Duringtheirsessions,shehadtoldthemarriagecounselor,Thingsareimproving.And
weregettingalongbetter.Whenthecounseloraskedabouttheirintimacyissues,
Shirleysaid,Noproblemsthere,blushed,andadded,Ever.Shesmiledasshe
recalledherstrategy.
ShirleylookedatJacob,thenshelookedforawaiter,andsaid,Dont.Dontspoilthis
dinner.Wevebeenoverthisbefore.
Itsalreadyspoiled.Spoiledbyyourcampingwithothermen.Whoarethey?Helooked
downatthesaltshaker,caughthersilence,hidhishandsunderthetable,andjoinedher
insearchingforawaiter.
Theybothflinchedwhenthewaiterarrivedwithmenus,awaterpitcher,andasteady
patterofquestions.Specials?Drinks?Appetizers?Howwouldyoulikethatprepared?
Whichvegetable?Youhaveyourchoiceof...Andforthegentleman?
Whendiditstart?Jacobaskedafterthewaiterleft.
Dont.
Whendiditstart?
Shehadbeendeterminednottotalkaboutheraffairs.Nowshesensedanopening.
Rightbeforeyouhidintheclosetthatnight.

31

Threetofourmonthsearlier,Jacobhadsecretedhimselfintheirbedroomcloset.Her
calendarhadanunderlinednoteDB.Infact,hercalendarhadthesameinitialsunder
multipledates.

Ineedtotellhim.Justgetitoverwith.
Shestartedtaking,andwithinfiveminutes,Jacob
shotfromthetable,hischairhitthefloor,andheabruptlywalked-out.Shirley,calmer
thanshethought,remainedseated.
Thatwasntsohard
.Shewatchedashestomped
flat-footedoverthesnow-coveredparkinglot,andsmiledashescrapediceoffthe
windshieldofhistruck.
ThirtyminutesafterJacobdroveaway,shegingerlywalkedoutside.Thewind
burnedherbarelegs.InsideherToyota,sheturnedontheengineandthentheheater.
ShehurriedovertheslipperystreetstomeetBierleyattheirusualspotalittle-traveled
streetafewblocksfromtherestaurant.
Insideherparkedcar,sheheardacrunchingsoundandthenherdooropened;shefelt
therepercussionfromaslapontheroofofthecar.Aglovedhandclaspedherleft
shoulder.DanWhatareyou-
Heinterrupted,Whythehelldidyoutakesolong?Hisvoicestrained,Wewere
supposedtobetogether.
Weneedtotalk.Cantwejust-
Heinterruptedagain,Tellmewhythehellyoustayedintheresodamnlong?Youstart
sleepingwithhimagain?
Dan,letstalk.
Ofcourse,welltalkinmycar.HepulledheroutoftheToyota,shovedherintohis
Lincoln.Onceinside,shehunchedforward,thenhuddledsilentandquiveringwithher
thighspressedagainstherchest.
Cementedbehindthesteeringwheel,Bierleydemandedajustification.Well?Tellme,
hesaidinabaritonewhine,thenhitthesteeringwheel.Now,andhehitthesteering
wheelagain.
Shirleytriedtoswallow.Throattoodry,shecoughed,repositionedherself,keptherarms
aroundherlegs.Icant-Icantbewithyou,shesaid.

32

Bierleyseyesfixedonherexposedlegs,thenhisfingerpointeddirectlyather,And,
dontdoubtforonedamnsecond,onewayoranother,hespitouthislastfourwords,
wewillbetogether.

Herjawtightened,Icantbetheotherwoman.Hervoicebarelyaudible,Iwontdoit.
Asifthatwouldalleviatethesituation.

Thatevening,twentymilesfromBerdan,temperaturebelow30,windabove40,
limestoneinthewintercold,insideagroveoftrees,underthefallenleaves,andbeneath
theupturnedsoil,Shirleywasburiedforthefirsttime.

AtShirleyssecondburial,theministerdronedhissolemnwords-repeatedasifinsidea
cathedral.Thesmellofloamdriftedfromtheupturnedmoundafewyardsbehindthe
casket.Russianthistlesgraspedthecemeteryfenceasawhistleofwindslappedthe
canvas,surroundedtheopengrave,thenspreadlikearugandcircledthecasket.The
sunricochetedoffthewhitesofthemenseyesastheirpupilsdarted.Womeninblack,
headslowered,readiedtheirwhitehandkerchiefs.
Herdarkcasketshonebeneaththemeshcanopyunderwhichherfamilysat-
recognizedbutunknowntoJacob,whostoodasafedistanceapart.
DanBierleywasalsoasafedistanceapartasheleanedagainsthisLincolnparkedona
cemeteryroadfiftyyardsfromShirleyscasket.

IV.
Weekslater,atfiveoclockonaSaturdayafternoon.Mr.Lawson,Mr.JacobLawson,
youareunderarrest.Youhavetherighttoremainsilent.Anythingyousay...Youhave...
Ifyoucannot...Thenonewillbe...Doyouunderstand?
Nothing.
Youdounderstand?Moredeclarativethaninterrogative.
Youareunderarrestformurder-in-the-first-degreeofShirleyLawsononoraboutthe
...

33

Hiswifedead.Policeinhishouse.Arrestedformurder.Toomuchconfusion.Aburial.An
avalanche.Fromthatpointon,Jacobheardonlywhitenoise.

Insidethecourtroomwithitsraisedjudgesbench,infrontofthespectatorsgallery,
werelongcounseltables.Theleadprosecutorsatnexttothejury.Totherightofthe
prosecutor,ataseparatetable,satJacobLawsonandhiscourt-appointeddefense
attorney.
Areyoureadyforthechargestoberead?Thejudgeaskedtheassistantcounty
attorneywhonodded,butdidnotbothertostand.NeitherJacob,norhis
court-appointedattorneywasasked.Thejudgereadfromthewhitesheetofpaper
preparedbytheassistantcountyattorney.
IthadtakenDanBierleyonephonecallandtwoexchangedfavorstobeassignedas
prosecutingattorneyintheJacobLawsoncriminaltrial.

Asdeathisapartoflife,sodecompositionisapartofdeath.Theautopsyrevealed
ShirleyLawsonsdeathwascausedbythreegunshotwoundstoherheadandthroat,
whichproducedmassivebraininjury.Her

stomachheldremnantsofthesamefood
servedattheNinnescahRestaurant,saidthepathologistashebeganhistestimony
beforethejury.
ThepathologistrespondedtoBierleysquestions,Whendiscovered,hertongue
resembledagray-brownthatlookedlikethebottomofadried-up,dirtyleathershoe
sole.Jacobscourt-appointedattorneysatmute.
WhenaskedabouttherestofShirleysbody,hesaid,Herhandhaddecayedinto
putrefied,parchment-likeskinthatlookedasifaglovehadbeenpeeledhalfwaydown.
Bierleyasked,andthepathologistdescribedthepurple-redpurgefluidthatflowedfrom
heroralandnasalpassages.Hepaused,wipedhisforehead,andcontinued,The
bloatingfromtheaccumulationofgaspushedShirleyseyesandtongueoutsidetheir
cavities.Hewaitedagain,thensaid,Afterthatherbodybrokeopenandreleasedgas
andfluids.Thedefenseattorneyremainedsilent.

34

ThepathologiststestimonyculminatedwithaphotographofShirleysskinatthetimeof
herdiscovery,accompaniedbyadescriptionoftheenzymesandbacteriathatbegan
toself-digestShirleysbody.Thenhesaid,Weknowshehadbeendeadforseveral
days,becauseofthecolorofpartsofShirleysneck,abdomen,shoulders,andhead,
whenherbodywasdiscovered.
Bierleyaskedhisfinalquestionforthepathologist:Isitcorrectthat,whendiscovered,
partsofShirleyLawsonsskinlookedlikethegoldenbrownskinofafreshlyroasted
chickenthesejurorsmightsitdowntoeatthisevening?
Atthispoint,thedefenselodgeditsonlyobjection;itwassustained,butnoterasedfrom
thejurorsmemory.ThephotographofShirleysroastedchickenskinwasnot
withdrawn.
Next,awaitresstestifiedthatsheservedthecoupledinnerandthatShirleysatwithher
skirthikeduppastmid-thigh.ShealsotestifiedthatwhileShirleyremainedseated,she
sawJacobslamhispalmonthetable,knockoverhischair,andleavetherestaurant.
Attheconclusionofthetrial,theCourtguidedthejury,Thereislittle,ifany,doubtthat
ShirleyLawsonwasmurdered.Threebulletswereshotintoherheadandthroat.The
onlyquestionforthejuryistheidentityofthemurderer.

V.
Afewyearslater,unabletoconcentrate,theprisonerdrifted.Hismindwanderedto
imagesofpeopleunseenforyears.Hisbrother,nowoversixty,hisnieceatleast
thirty-five.Hesawoldfriends,imaginedtheirchildren,grandchildren.HesawShirley
lookathim,thendisappear.Hehadexperiencedenough.Nowjustforget.Nopoint.No
hope.Noescape.Fallasleep.
Insideametalbuildingwithclosed,unmarkeddoorsoneachside,theshackledprisoner
walkedpastgraymetalracksholdingtheinstitutionspurchasedfooditemscansof
peachesandlard,bagsofbeansandspaghetti,gallonbottlesofketchupandmustard.
Stronghandsguidedhimintoaconnectedbuilding,asmallermetalwarehousewith

35

coldfloors.Straightaheadwasanopeningthewidthofaloadingdockdoor.He
stopped.Thedoordescended.Handspulledhimtotherightsideofthecloseddoor.His
eyeswidened.Theguardstightenedtheirgrips.Sixmenworedarkblueordarkergray
suits;anotherworeablackcassockwithaRomancollarandheldaBible.
Nowords.Heraisedhisrightfootontothefirststep.Heneededassistance.Left
foot,thenrightfoot.Left,right,left,right,left.Hestopped.Anelementofirrationalitywas
requiredtocontinue.
Heheardagentlemalevoice:Son,letsgo.Amomentlater,thesamevoice,Canyou
doitbyyourself?Nomovement.Handsliftedhimtothenextstep.Right,left,right,left,
rightfoot,followedbyleft.Bothfeetnowonalevelsurface.
Wait.Hisgaspsandshallowbreathingwerefamiliartothedarksuitedmen.
Onemansteppedforward,openedthemanilaenvelope,andread,Statevs.Jacob
Lawson.DenialofWritandOrderofExecution.Hisfinalappealdenied.
Lastwords?
Nonecame.Jacobsmindrushed.Nomoretime.Noplacelefttogo.
Anylastwords?
Nothing.Onlythesoundofthetrapdoorasitslammed,andtheweightofJacob
Lawsondescendingwhippedtheropetight.

36

JOHANNES|
LorrieHartshorn

Webuildstatuesoutofsnow,andweeptoseethemmelt.

CanItellyouhowitwas?Theearthlikeasaucerunderthatwide,grey-goldsky;thesun
neverrisingmorethanastretchedhandabovethehorizon?Somethingrolledoverthe
icethatsummeroverusleavingbehinditamarkthatwouldneverwashaway.
Idontknowwhatbroughtusuphere.Iwastooyoungwhenwecametoremember
anythingfrombefore,anditwasunderstoodthatyoudidntask.Therewereonlythree
ofus:Motherwithhercarefulgreyeyes,me,andJohannes.Ourlittlehouse,withitstin
roofandslantedwalls,stoodinthemiddleoftheicyflatsthat,evennow,seemto
stretchonforever.Onceamonth,therewasWilhelm,whocamewithgroceriesand
admiringeyes,andtooksomeofthemoneyMotherkeptinatinboxbehindthehearth.
Inwinterdays,Motherwarnedustostayclose,andsowedidtetheredbysome
invisiblecordthatweknewnottostretch.Summerdaysbroughtmorefreedom:
JohannesandIwouldcreakoutontotheporchthatranaroundthehouse,spreading
ourfingersinfrontofourfacesandpeeringthroughtheirshadowstoseehowmuch
timewehadleftbeforedark.Johannescouldntkeephisfingersthesamedistance
apart,andgenerallyleftthemtuckedinhismittens,butIgottobequitegoodatit.More
thanthreefingersofsunmeantseveralhoursoutofthewood-smokedark.
Thosepreciousdays,Idstrideawayfromthehousetowardthehorizon,thesafe,
resentedgravityofhometuggingatmyback.Whenwewereyounger,IletJohannes
tagalongwithmebut,asIgrew,Ishookhimoff.Woundedbutuncomplaining,he
stayedbytheporch,watchedbytheemptywindowsashescrapedsnowintoclusters
ofshort,fleetingfriendsastalkofgrassforamouth,sticksforthearms,andholes
gougedbypointedfingersfortheireyes.Motherunleashedcoldfuryonhimoncefor

37

pilferingdriedbeansfromthepot,sohestucktowhathecouldfindonthegroundafter
that.
Thatsummerwasafractiousone,andtempersflaredlikesunonice.Motherspent
moretimethanevertuckedinthedarkcornersofthehousewhileI,feveredwithmy
teenageyears,lovedandhatedeverythingwithallthepassionandnoreason.
Johannespaddedquietlybetweenthepairofus,bewilderedbythelooksandlong
silences,wide-eyedandneedyinhisworry.Hisfingers,whennottuckedintheirwoolen
mittens,foundtheirwayfrequentlytohismouth.
Iaskmyselfnowwhetherwereallyhadthreefingersofsunleftthatafternoon.
Memoriesarefickle:sometimesIseemyselfthereontheporch,fingersspreadwide,fat
wedgesofpalegoldlightbetweenthem.Butsometimes,whenIwakeinthedarkquiet,I
seeonlylinesofvividredbetweenfingersthatwerebarelyapart.
Iwalkedawayfromhimthatday,awayfromthehouse,asIddonesomanytimes
before.Ilefthimthereinthesparsesharpgrass,andIwalkedouttowardthedarkening
horizon,wishingwitheverythinginmethatIcouldruntomeetitandhalfconvincedI
wasgoingtotry.ThelastviewIhadofthehousewasofthewindowsreflectingtheflat,
endlessplainslikeamirror,andofJohannnes,stoutinhisbluecoat,scrapingtogether
anotherfriend.
***
ThereisnowhereJohannescouldhavegone.Idonttellyouthatinexasperation,orto
provesomekindofpoint;itssimplythetruth.Thelandouthereisasflatasgetsthere
arenocracksorcreviceshecouldfallinto,nohiddenriversundertheice.Novisitors
cameandwent,andtherewerenotyremarksorfootprints,asthoughanyonecould
approachwithoutusknowing,anyway.
NobodycameaboutJohannestherewasnoonetocome,anditwasforthebest.
Whatcouldwehavetoldthem?

38

Motherretreatedfurtherintoherself,knowingaswellasIdidthattherewasnowhere
Johannescouldhavegone.Inthewinterthatfollowed,Icaughtherwatchingme
sometimes,paleeyesglintinginthelamplight.Sheneversaidit,andneitherdidI.When
thecancertookhertwoyearslater,shewentquietlyandIsatdownstairsbythefireas
herbreathingrattledthenfailed.Wilhelmtookherawaywhenhecametwoweekslater,
andthatwasthat.
Now,whenIstandonthatricketyporch,Imoutsidemyselfsomehow.IseeJohannes
andme,likedarkbrushstrokesonapalecanvasthatwouldvebeenbetteroffwithout
suchboldmarks.Westretchdownandaway,shadowsagainstthelilacsnow,staring
outtowherewellnevergowherethefrozenEarthtouchessky.Iminfrontofhim,
longer,thinnerthanheis;hisbundledshapepausesintheshortgrass,wondering
whethertofolloworletmego.
AndwhenIlieinbedatnight,feelingtheweightoftheheavenspressingdownonthe
roof,Iknowthatthislife,thisworld,isjusttoobigtohideanythingforever.Iwaitforthe
crunchoffootstepsontheicysnowforanotherdarkstroketobemadeonthispale
canvas.Maybethesnowisntaswhiteasitlooks.Whoknows?Imjusttellingyouhowit
was.Howitis.

39

OSTINATO|
NatalieGorbina
(AJazztude)

Sedfugitinterea,fugitirreparabiletempus.

DukeEllington
PreludetoaKiss

Areyouafraidofflying?
There were no warnings, no Dear passengers, please keep your seatbelts
fastened. We are about to enter a turbulence zone, as a balloon inflatedin my chest
and mybodysuddenlybecameincrediblylight.Itwouldprobablybeuselessanyway,no
seatbelts could be strong enough to stop the balloon frombursting andmy ears from
being stuffed up, to stop thisfall the first personto have a desireto claimtheskyfor
himself must have felt like this faster and faster into the abyss of her eyes. Only a
dissonantchord,establishingthetonalityforthefollowingpieceof
D ninth. Gaugmented seventh. C dominantseventhflatninth.
Ifyouhearasongin

blue,likeaflowercryingforthedew...
music. A red twinkling spot disappears in theobscurityofthenightand carries
my dreams away to the South,perhaps.Thatswhere all the dreamsflyawaysafely
hidden under thewings of ladybirds, right? And thatswhereIwouldflyawayifIwerent
here,underthisrain,thinkingaboutthenumberofbarsinthis,inour
Dminoreleventh.Gaugmentedseventh....
thatwasmyheartserenadingyou.
music.Thirty-twobars. Calando. That night, everything wastoorealandnotreal
enough.Thatnight, lyingonthegrass,shewaskneadingthecloudswithherfingers,like
the plasticine, shaping them into hearts hearts for hopeless lovers, she said, hearts
for... us? That night, being its slave and itsconqueror,I thought I deciphered one more
chordin the scoreoftheuniverse,buteventhesilentoaksandtheflickeringfirefliesand
the smiling cleflike moon understood more than I did, because when she caught me

40

staring and whispered hi, it sounded a lot like something else, and because when I
triedtofindtherightanswer,Icouldnt.Iwasjustabeginner,learningtounderstand
Dminorninth.Gaugmentedseventhflatninth.
Mypreludetoakiss.
music.Conamore.Liketheinsanecollectorsofvinylrecords,Icollecteddifferent
variations of this syllable, repeated them in my head, tried to discern their mode and
tonality. Because later that night, when we were drifting off to sleep, she caught me
staring, again, and whispered hi, again, a persistently repeating note, a riff, and it
soundeda lotlike something else, again. But I was justabeginnerandIhadalongway
ahead of me towards improvisation, that is why when she asked me to listen, I didnt
hearanything.
It was the next morning, she was standing stock-still in the middle of the path,
droplets of the daybreak rain sparkling in her hair and her smile being more
unfathomable in the rays of the reborn sun than ever before a delicate flower
welcoming the blissful dawn and possessing the knowledgeof something beyond this
palpable reality. Listen, she said. Do you hear it? Twigs cracking under our feet,
songbirds twittering in the foliage above our heads, a steamboat murmuring in the
distance?.. But she meant something else, her eyes told me, and I strained my ears,
desperately trying to hear what she heard, to understand what she understood, but
miserably,embarrassingly,disappointedlyfailing.
Wasshe disappointed inme asher pupil? Orwasshe, askedthe egoisticvoice in
myhead, tiredofmeasan obstacle standing in herwayofunderstandingthemeaning
oftheuniverse?Butwhenherlipsmouthedoh,ladybird,itsoundedalotlikeapromise,
a vow and the fall of a fragile petal. And now (she could be so proud of me) I hear it
everywherearound me intherustleofthebemolle-shapedleaves,inthecrescendoof
thewind,inthestaccatooftherain
Eminor seventh. A thirteenth.D ninth. C seventhflatninth.
If you hear asong that

growsfrommytendersentimentalwoes...
music of theuniverse.
...thatwas my heart tryingtocomposeapreludetoakiss.
And I closemy eyes, welcoming the raindrops,letting them write their tune.Al coda. All

41

the nights merge together intooneendlessnight, a perpetual winkingofthestars and

murmur of the trees and her warm breath, and my thoughts are a disorganizedclew,
and the moreI try to disentangle them, themoreentangledtheybecome.WhenItouch
them, they turninto somethingfickle and transpicuous, and the water is everywhere,it
penetratesmybrain,myheart,mysoul,bringingcoldnessanddespair.
Is it possible to die from having cold thoughts? Perhaps, Ishallplungeinto warm
nothingnessandwatch,likedaguerreotypes,thememoriesofthedaysthatneverwere.
I try to find the clues, the footholds, which would prove her existence, but miserably,
embarrassingly,disappointedlyfail,again.
Ihad no idea how old shewas shecouldbetwenty,orthirty,orhundredofyears
old, and whatever she told me, Iwouldbelieveher,likeIbelievedwhenshesaidthatshe
had witnessed the construction of Notre-Dame de Paris and the execution of Marie
Antoinette.Iknewalmost nothing abouther and,yet, I knew so muchmore.Iknewthat
she would chase the sunrise across the whole world, so thesun would beperpetually
rising, or fly away with that ladybird, because they are good omens, she said. If you
make a wish with a ladybird in your palm and let it go, it will show you where your
happinesswillcomefrom.
E major seventh. C sharp minor seventh.
Though it's just a simple melody with

nothingfancy,nothingmuch...
Sodoes itmatterwhethershe was realor not?
...youcould turn ittoasymphony...
And what is real inthisreality?Whereareitslimits?Memoriesarealwaysacombination
of facts and imagination. Its azero plus somethingor azero minus something,but its
always azero,tending tofill theemptiness, but incapableofdoingso.Ididntcarewhat
her age, weight,or hershoe size were, why would I care, all of asudden,ifshewasreal
ornot? It'snothing butanother unnecessarydetail,whichhasbeenpreventingmefrom
understandingher,understanding
Bseventh.Eseventh.Aseventhflatninth.
...aSchuberttunewithaGershwintouch.
music.I stop in the middleofthe bridge rightabovetherailsandpickupapetal,
afractionofmysoul, and letit fall down, down, down,anditsnotswirlingandspinning,

42

but falling linearly under the incessant raindrops. A cappricio. What is death a bass
clef instead of a question mark. Its a deep blue canvas full of holes, through which
trickledownthetearsofrejectedlovers.
I shall make a note to buy the strongest threads that I can find. But can I find
threadsstrongenoughtopatchuptheholesinmysoul?
E flat ninth. D ninth.G augmented seventh.
Oh, howmy love songgentlycriesfor

thetendernesswithinyoureyes...
So,didyou?
DidIwhat?
Makeawish.IfImyourladybird.
No.
Whynot?
BecauseIdontwantyoutoflyaway.
I open my eyes and see nothing but blue shadowsdancing inthesky.Drip-drop,
drip-drop,therain,tappingtherhythmof
Dminoreleventh.Gseventh.
Myloveisapreludethatneverdies...
jazz. Tomorrow, I shall search for you in the faceless crowd, again, and I shall
recognize you inthatwomans swirl of hair andinthatyoungboyssmile.Andwhenthe
springcomes, I shall pick up the flowersandsend them pressedbetweenthesheetsof
myendlessletterstoyou.Violets,preservedbetweenHeinesverses,becausehisverses
have thefragranceofviolets,youtoldmeonce.Theywillreturninamonth,or perhaps,if
Iamlucky,intwomonths,butthistimewillbe enoughtocherish,justforashortwhile,an
egoisticthoughtthatyouwill
Dminorseventh.Gaugmentedseventhflatninth.
...apreludetoakiss.
answer me. Coda. Espirando. Are you afraid of flying? It sounded a lot like
somethingelse,alotlike:Areyouafraidofdying?
Decapoalcoda.

43

MUSIC|
KristyKerruish

KarlHeindlisagentlemanwithoutdistinction,hadbeenAnnabella'sscathing
assessmentoftheyoungman.ItdidnotseemconceivablethatKarlHeindl,asocial
climberwithnothingtorecommendhimbutafewprettymannersandahandsome
face,shouldbetherecipientofsogreatagift.KarlHeidlwouldnotbereceivingany
moreinvitationsfromher,thatmuchwasassuredandhewouldhavetocontinuehis
sordidforagingforarichwifeelsewhere.Hedoesn'teven
play
the
pianoforte,

Annabellasaidirascibly,plyingherfaninthewarmair.
Hedidnot.InpointoffactKarlHeindlplayednoinstrument,hehadverylittleear
formusic,avoidedopera,andcouldnotsustainaconversationoncomposersformore
thantwominuteswithoutdryingupentirelyandlookingtothefloor-asifinspirationwas
tobefoundintheparquetry.Annabellamaintainedthattomakeamanacceptable,to
makehimeligiblefortheroundofsocialgatherings,dinnerparties,dancesand
petites

soupers
,amanshouldknowhowtotalkaboutmusic.Itwasthereforeundoubtedlya
deliberateinsultonFrauLendorfer'spartthatsuchanunworthycreaturehadbeen
chosenbyhertobebequeathedthefamousSteinwayinthelatestdraftofherwill.
FrauLendorferwasdyinginaratherslowanddeliberatemanner.Shehadbeen
dyingforyearsbutnowherconsiderableagemadeaprolongedexitunsustainable.She
hadsummonedKarlHeindltoherhomeandmadetheinvitationverypublic.HerrHeindl
wasnotrelatedtoFrauLendorferandhisacquaintancewithherwasslight-the
invitationandproposedbequesthadcomeassomeconsiderablesurprise.Hehad
donnedhisbestcoatfortheoccasionandcarriedhisgrandfathersebonycane,allinall
hecutafinefigureashewalkedbrisklydownSchwindgassesteppingthroughthe
rain-washedautumnleaves.Foramanofambition,KarlHeindlhadlongsincerealised
thatsocietyandacceptabilitywithinitwaslikesmoke:opaque,intoxicatingand
transient.TobetakenupbyanelderlyladysuchasFrauLendorfer,tobe
acknowledgedherfavouriteandreceivehergifts,wasrichrewardindeedforhishours
spentinunprofitableflirtations.
44

FrauLendorferwatchedhimapproachingfromherwindowandlaidherlong
lace-coveredfingerscarefullyacrossthepianokeysthenoteshesitatedanddiedthe
verymomentthepommelofKarlHeidl'scanestruckthefrontdoor.Asinstructed,the
bobbingmaidbroughttheyoungmanthroughtothemusicroomwherehebowedto
FrauLendorferandstoodattentivelybeforeher.
Youngman,wehavemetonseveraloccasionsdoyourecall?
Wemetatyourniece'sgardenpartylastsummerIbelieve.
Wespokeoftheweatherandgardens,wespokeoftopiary.
FrauLendorfer.Iwashonouredtoreceiveyourinvitationtoday.
YouknowthereasonIsuppose,thatIcalledyouhere?
Ido.AtleastIbelieveIdo...
Yes,IintendtoleavetheSteinwaytoyouinmywill.Iwishyoutogiveitahome,to
careforit.Tokeepittunedandpolished...
Iamhonoured...
Honoured,theoldwomanlaughedtoherselfasifsavouringtheword.KarlHeindl,
forallhisfinerig,wasnotrich.Birthhadnotaffordedhimaprosperousupbringing
althoughithadfavouredhimwithahandsomeenoughfaceandelegantfigure,which
hadwonhimalittlestatusinsociety.Notallyoungmenweresofortunateastopossess
thegiftofafinefaceandallthefavoursitcouldbring.Suchapublicandgenerous
bequestasherswouldmaketheyoungmanamuchsoughtaftermemberofhersocial
circle.Hewouldfindhimselfgossipedofinsocietyballs,youngwomen-whohadnot
previouslygivenhimanod-wouldnowfallinlovewithhimacrosscandelabraand
canaps.
YouareperhapswonderingwhyIhavechosenyouaboveandbeyondallmy
relatives,whyIamgifting
you
theSteinway.
Ididwonder.KarllethiseyesstraytotheSteinway.Thegrandpianosatinthe
windowtothesideofthemusicroom-whereithadbeensincetheacclaimed
musician'sdeath.FormanyyearsFrauLendorfer'shusbandhadbeenthemost
celebratedmusicianinViennaandhispianowasregardedasthefinestofitskind,its

45

valuebecauseofit-unparalleled.Whileherhusbandlivedithadoccupiedacornerof
thegrandballroomattherearofthehouse.Aroomwhichhadsadlyfallenintodisrepair
sincethemusicfadedandherhusbandwaslaidinhiscoldgrave
Therewasatimeyoungmanwhentheworldwasbeautiful,whenIwasbeautiful.
Theoldwomansaidmakingherwayslowlytowardstheinstrument.Iwoulddanceas
myhusbandplayed.Iwouldsingtohismusic,myhandrestinguponhisshoulder.Iwas
foolishenoughtobelievethatIwouldalwaysbebeautifulandthathismusicwould
neverfade.Ilookinthemirrornowandhardlyknowthewitheredfacethatlooksbackat
me.Myreflectionisastranger.Ihadsupposedoncethatallthingsendurehappiness
andyouth.Butseasonschange,wegrowold,theleavesfallfromtheboughandweare
leftwiththeghostsofourpastsummerswithouteverpossessingthem.Shepaused
andranherthinfingertipsoverthelustrouswoodofthepiano.Sincemyhusband's
death,ascoreofyearsago,IhavepromisedthemalltheSteinwayatsomepointin
time:mynieceAnnabelmostrecently,mynephewbeforeher,mygod-daughterbefore
him.Forthepromisetheygavemeeverything,entertainedme,flatteredme,satand
pumpedtheivorykeyswiththebeliefthatthesoundpleasedme.Itneverpleasedme
foritwasnevermyhusbandplaying,nooneplaysaswellashedid.Forthepromise
theysawonlytheirgain,thevalueoftheinstrumentandwhattheymightbuyforthe
moneyonsellingit:suchfacileavariciousfools.
Shepausedanddragginghershawlaroundhershoulders,tookachairand
indicatedfortheyoungmantodolikewise.
Theyfailedthetest?Karlsaidsittingdown,lookingtowardsthewindowswhere
theambersunplayedoutsidetheveiledcasements.Hewonderedwhyshehadshutit
outbutthenshehadnoneedofitanymore.Heturnedbacktoher.Theyneverheard
yourhusband'smusic,Karloffered.
Theoldwomanlookedattentivelyathimsearchinghisbrighteyesformockeryor
laughter,findingnothingbutsincerity.Doyouyoungman?

46

Iheartheechoes.Yourhusband'sgeniuswasunsurpassed.Hefilledthishouse
withhappinessandlaughterwithmusic.No-theother'sdidnothearhimandsoyou
chosemethemostunworthyrecipientofyourgenerosity...
Youareprefect.
Iamyourrevenge.Karlroseandpacedtheroomforseveralmomentshishead
bowedinthought.Everythinghehadwishedforwastangible.Foramomenthecould
glimpsehisfuture-howitmightbe.Hewonderedthathehadeveraspiredtothis
gossamerworld.Hisyouth,hisbeautywouldfade-themanthatlookedbackathim
fromthemirrorwouldonedaybeastranger;havinglivedhislifeinthehalf-lightofpetty
valuesliketheoldwomanbeforehim.TheSteinwayshouldnotdictatehislife-youth
andhappinessshould.
FrauLendorfer-whyshouldyousuppose
I
wouldwantyourghosts?Thatiswhat
youarepromisingmeIbelieve-yourpast-thephantomsofyouryouthandwithered
love.Doyoufancythatyouwillstrikeablowatthoseshallowdotingrelativeswhohave
foralltheseyearsdancedtoyoureverywhim?Doyouhopethatastheystandabout
yourgravetheywillweep,notforthelossofyoubutforthelossoftheSteinway?
Theoldwomanmerelyacknowledgedhiswordswithadrysmile.
FrauLendorferyouractionsproveonlyonething.Thatyoumightvaluethis
instrumentfarlessthanyourmemories.Toletitfallintosuchunworthyhandsasmine
itisnolessthansacrilege.Howcan
I
possiblyownaSteinway?Itakenojoyinmusic.
Dearmeyoungman,theoldladysaidwithsurprise.Yousupposethatsomeone
mustbeworthyoftheinstrumenttopossessit.Itisjustathingformakingmusic.Itonly
happenstobeworthagreatdeal.
Idohearthemusicbutnotyourlatehusband'sFrauLendorfer.Ihearyours.
Dearboy.
I
cannotplaytheSteinway.
Sinceyourhusband'sdeathyouhaveplayedthispianoFrauLendorferandyour
musichasbeensweetindeedandthosefoolshavedanced.Foryearsyouhave
accruedthebenefitsthatthemerepromiseofyourpianocouldbring.Youhavesat
besidetheirhearthsinwinteronthepromiseofit,youhavedinedfromtheirtableson

47

thepromiseofit.Nowyoureapthesatisfactionofdenyingittothosewhoonceloved
youmost.No,Idon'treallybelievetheywereevermoreworthyofitthanIbutIdobelieve
thatyouwereneverworthyofiteither.Yourhusbandplayedthispianotomakethe
worldmorebeautiful,hefilledthisroomwithmusicandpeoplelaughedandswept
acrossthefloorundertheteeminglightofathousandcandles.Youhavedefiledit.
DoyoupresumeIwillgiveittoyounow?theoldladycried.
SoonerorlateryouwouldhavewithdrawnthegiftbutonlyafterIhaddanceda
whiletothetuneyouplayed,justasthoseothersdidbeforeme,fawningandgrovelling
atyoureverywhim...Iwillnotdanceforyou.
Suchinsolence.Leave,theoldladycommandedflailingherweakarmintheair
andpressingherhandkerchiefagainstherwitheredlips.
AsKarlHeindlwalkedfromherdoorthatdaythethoughtofhiswordschilledhim.
Theautumnskywasaclearcrispblueandtheweaksunshinefeltwarmandrichonhis
face.HehadlookedupontheSteinwayand,foraninstant,believeditwithinhisgrasp
andfeltavariceandcorruptionburninhiseyes.Hecouldsoeasilybecomesucha
monsterasFrauLendorferandhavedanced.OncetheSteinwayhadbeenbeautiful
but,unlikeFrauLendhorfer,hetrulybelievedthatitcouldbebeautifulagainsuchwas
thegiftofitsmusic.Onedaysomeonewhoplayedasfinelyasherhusbandwouldsit
beforeitandseeitforitsmusicalone,itsrealmusicandtheprofitstheyreapedfromit
wouldbethegreatestbyfar.Thatwashisgiftheunderstoodtruewealth-andhis
rewardwasfreedom.

48

The Artists

ThomasElson

ThomasElsonlivesinNorthernCalifornia.Hisshortstorieshaveappearedinseveral
literaryjournalsincludingthePennsylvaniaLiteraryJournal,AvalonLiteraryReview,
ClackamasLiteraryReview,andPerceptionsMagazine.

ElizabethGibson

ElizabethGibsonstudiesattheUniversityofManchester.Herworkhasappearedina
numberofjournals.Shelovescats,turtlesandstargazing,blogsat
http://elizabethgibsonwriter.blogspot.co.uk

andtweetsat@Grizonne.

PaulaGibson

BornintheUK,PaulaRaeGibsonisaselftaughtphotographer.Shehastwobooks
published,DiaryofaLoveAddictbyKehrer,andRaebyEyemazingEditions,workingon
handmadeprintsinthedarkroomwitholdsecondhandcameras.Shewishestoevoke
emotionmorethan

fact.to
makepeoplefeelratherthansee.theseimagesarepartofa
seriesthatexplorememory.

NatalieGorbina

NatalieGorbinaiscurrentlyworkingonherPhDdissertationatTUDortmund(Germany).
Sheenjoysplayingwithwords.Fromtimetotime,theycrystallizeintostories.Email:
nataliegorbina@gmail.com

IvanGrebenshikov

IvanGrebenshikovisaRussian-SwissartistbasedinSwitzerland.Heisnowactively
exhibitinginSwitzerland,Italy,RussiaandUSA.Hiscurrentprojectisfocusedon
receptivearttherapy.
49

LorrieHartshorn

LorrieHartshornhashadshortfictionpublishedinanumberofjournals,including
Compose,Severine,1000WordsandAnthem.SheeditsHaloLiteraryMagazine,a
journaloffictionbywomen.

KatieJones

KateJonesispassionateaboutflash,andhaspublishedinSickLit,Spelk,andCaf
Aphra.SheplacedfirstinthequarterlycompetitionFlash500,andalsowritesfeatures
andreviews.

KristyKerruish

KristyKerruishwasborninEdinburghandcurrentlylivesinTheNetherlands.Shewrites
fictionandpoetryandhasrecentlyhadworkplacedinDreamCatcher,SpelkFiction,
Winamop,DawntreaderandGoldDust,amongothers.

RobertS.King

RobertS.KingeditsKentuckyReviewandservesontheboardofFutureCyclePress.
GlassLyrePress(2014)publishedhislatestpoetrybook,DevelopingaPhotographof
God.

CourtneyLeBlanc

CourtneyLeBlancschapbook,AllintheFamily,isforthcomingfromBottlecapPress.
Readherblogat

www.wordperv.com
,followherontwitter:
www.twitter.com/wordperv
,
orfindheronfacebook:

www.facebook.com/poetry.CourtneyLeBlanc
.

AaronLembo

AaronLembohasrecentlycompletedhisundergraduatedegreeinCreativeWritingand
EnglishLiteratureatBathSpaUniversityandhisillustratedpoetrypamphlet,Ekphrasis
Revised,waspublishedin2015.
50


L.L.Madrid

L.L.MadridlivesinTucsonwhereshecansmelltherainbeforeitfalls.Sheresideswith
herfour-year-olddaughterandanantisocialcat.@LLMadridWriter

LauraManardo

LauraManardoisarecentgraduatefromKalamazooCollege.Shecurrentlydoes
marketingforamedicalcompanyandyoucanfindheronweekendswritingpoems
aboutmarinelife.

JayMerill

Jayisa2017PushcartPrizeNomineewithrecentflashfictionin3AMMagazine,Hobart
andtNY,twostorycollections(Salt),andisWriterinResidenceatWomeninPublishing.

SafiaMoore

Aserialcompetitionshortlistee,Safiahasbeenpublishedinvariousjournals.In2015she
wontheBathShortStoryAwardandhasaflashinthe2016NFFDanthology.

JuanitaRey

JuanitaReyisaDominicanpoetwhohasbeenintheUSAforfiveyears.Shehas
workedmanyjobswhilestudyingtoimproveherEnglish.Shehasbeenwritingfora
numberofyearsbutonlyrecentlyhavebeguntotakeitseriously.Herworkhasbeen
acceptedbyPennsylvaniaEnglish,HarbingerAsylum,YellowChairReviewandMadcap
Poets.

AlinaStefanescu

AlinaStefanescuisapoetwhoiscurrentlyworkingonashortfictioncollection.More
onlineat

www.alinastefanescu.com
51


ChristinaTaylor

ChristinaTaylorlivesinNewcastleuponTyne.Herworkhasappearedinprintandonline
inFirewords,ParagraphPlanet,Storyboard,101WordsandAdhocFiction.Followher
onTwitter@Chrissie72.

M.DrewWilliams

M.DrewWilliamswillbeginhisMFAcandidacyatCreightonUniversitythiscomingFall.
Hischapbook,NoGhostGoesUnnoticed,wasreleasedbyLeafGardenPress.Findhim
here:

m-d-williams.tumblr.com

CodyWilson

CodyWilsonlivesinArizona.HeisanMFAcandidateatQueensUniversityofCharlotte
andisapoetryreaderforQu.HehaspoemsrecentlypublishedinKentuckyReview.

52