By James Fetler
E-book by means of Fetler, James
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Additional info for Impossible appetites: nine stories
Sample text
I lay in the bag for a couple of hours. I couldn't sleep. I could hear Kevin's Joan Baez tapes. A hammering came over my eyes. Around midnight I squirmed out of the bag and threw up into the bay. V January 7, 1970April 27, 1970 WEDNESDAY. Another dead rabbit on the grass. I still can't find any openings or underground holes. Laura doesn't go to the back yard any more. During lunch Sparrow took me aside. He said Joe, the department is baffled by you. I said what's the complaint? He Page 16 said well, you're not functioning any moreI've watched you contract steadily for the last two, three years, but your negative output has suddenly shifted to high.
He sets the globe on the desk twirling. The time for the perceptive investor to make his moves is right now, Joewe're going to see an appreciable spurt. MONDAY. The Bronsons asked us to join them at Stanford Memorial Church to observe Easter Sunday. We went. Page 18 Kevin and Janis were there. The solemnity hung over us like cologne. I hadn't counted on brunch after the service. Julie said well, Easter brunch is traditional with them. Locked up the car with the baskets for Laura and Alex and rode up to San Francisco in Kevin's new Mercedes sedan.
And I began to dig. As I dug, the tailor's wife told me a long tale about how her husband had died. Some kind of disease of the blood. I kept digging. God sees everything! she wept, and I cried Amen! and kept digging. I had to dig deep before I found blackness. It was frozen, the earth, like a great shelf of stone, but finally I had hacked out several chunks. " He let the tin slide between his legs to the floor. "You understand me, Alexander Alexandrovich. From that day it has been with me, this dust.