I went to a party last night and the literary value of the personages was like fine linen paper in a box of stationary and a very expensive fountain pen. There was a sitar and an accordion player on a veranda overlooking a spring garden in full bloom. I talked to a woman in the most exorbitant array of textures and colors I have ever seen, but which gave me the impression that she had arranged them artistically and fashionably beneath her orange-streaked and brown-hair color. Her hair was Cleopatraesque and her eye glasses were honey-rimmed and olive-lensed and she wore one pink semi-precious stone in gold on her lip. Her lipstick was streaked on her left, which is where I wanted to put my hand and wipe it for her. I also wanted to kiss her. Her clothes were so thick. And the weight of her bracelets seemed like she was dragging a Persian carpet on an old wooden floor. She left before I read “A Prescription for Remembering Flowers” over the musical piece “Gliding Grace.” Each person was as deep and as interesting as the aforementioned. Image




  1. Yes, I also agree with Holistic Wayfarer about the great descriptions you do. In this story there is musicality, very elaborate language, sensuality and a keen eye for observation and detail especially in the description of this beautiful woman, an ideal that seems impossible to attain. The dominant feeling one gets while reading it is SADNESS with short moments of JOY, ADMIRATION and ECSTASY. This is a powerful combination of feelings that you are able to arise in the reader. As a result, one inevitably feel trapped in the reading.

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