Tuesday, January 12, 2016
Do you remember what you wore the day your heart was broken for the first time? Or maybe it was the fourth time, but it approached with the rush of an Amtrak, and it didn't pay any mind to your swaying limbs, tore some off and they ended up the same place that tumbleweeds go-
thereafter, you commiserated with Faye Dunaway's Bonnie, with Joni Mitchell as she sang of lovers on the street, that looked so high. (She bumped into a stranger, and they both apologized.)
I remember that it was a long cotton dress, it was sort of Antigone, and brushed the tops of my feet. I still had long hair in a braid and those woven leather sandals with their little wedge heels. I was driving Ventura Highway and listening to John Phillips, John the Wolfking of La.
Have you heard that album? It's one for the ages.
This is not an interesting story in cold fact, but I think the story's accessories are interesting; the garments that the gross, tepid story inhabited, old fish wrapped in a mermaid veil of seaweed.
Posted by Allison at 5:41 PM
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