Chrisonomicon
Journal & Weblog Write to Save Your Life August 31, 2003

Booklog

Running with Scissors by Augusten Burroughs
My mother is standing in front of the bathroom mirror smelling polished and ready; like Jean Nate, Dippity Do and the waxy sweetness of lipstick.

East of Eden by John Steinbeck
The Salinas Valley is in Northern California.

The Straw Men by Michael Marshall
Palmerston is not a big town, nor one that can convincingly be said to be at the top of its game.

Vineland by Thomas Pynchon
Later than usual one summer morning in 1984, Zoyd Wheeler drifted awake in sunlight through a creeping fig that hung in the window, with a squadron of blue jays stomping around on the roof.

Collected Fictions by Jorge Luis Borges
In 1517, Fray Bartolomé de las Casas, feeling great pity for the Indians who grew worn and lean in the drudging infernos of the Antillean gold mines, proposed to Emperor Charles V that Negroes be brought to the isles of the Caribbean, so that they might grow worn and lean in the drudging infernos of the Antillean gold mines.

Finished

 
Howard Dean for President, 2004

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posted Tuesday, July 31, 2001

Air

The wet-weight heat of the humid air settles on my skin as I roll down the windows. In a hasty escape to mingle freely with the opposite, the cool dryness of the car dissipates. Age-old theory of opposites attracting, I think to myself. No. Not attraction. Diffusion. Thermal physics. I shake my head to rid the moist torpor that has blanketed my senses and gaze onward, the shimmering air calling, hypnotic. I was on the floor of my bedroom when I burned his scent into the supple leather of memory. He lay sleeping, facing away from me. Quietly lowering myself next to him, I breathed him in, his hair, his breath -- smells that had grown roots in my stomach. I had developed a need for the air around him. Somehow the intoxicating humidity now revived that hunger. Sliding across the marble sky, the clouds whisper of cooler days as they travel to places beyond the horizon. He?s over the horizon too, I tell them. Perhaps they will visit him and bring him along the next time I see them. I roll up the windows and start the air conditioner, driving towards the mountains, away from the humidity. Driving away.

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AUTHOR
Chris Paul

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Engineer

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Colorado, USA

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