Search results for "mirror "

Journal fiction

Author: joe

Wednesday, 07 May, 2008 - 20:26

She says he found the journal by google. "I want to fucking kill myself" plus "I'm feeling lucky". He went to the root, and found the phone number. Called the phone number - this sort of thing doesn't happen every day, she notes drily.

The last thing she says - she may go to Paris. 6 months ago. So I call the number, because I think she's dead. We'll talk about the hole you fill with junk food and TV, and the way you cover the mirrors. We will, sooner or later, stand together under the shelter, in the rain, and watch the stray drops collect over the iron ornamentation and whorl into a bare stream of hopelessness at our feet.

The phone rings onto voicemail, and the crackle of transatlantic distance deters me. Layering complications onto someone's unsuspecting answer-phone. I try again, some hours later. Her voice is there, faint, surprised (even though this has happened before) - I googled, found the journal, went to the root, and called the number. I wanted to triangulate, as though if I knew she was there, and that he - the first one - was also somewhere, then we'd be three points, marking summits, we could take sightings, and locate ourselves. In the absence of a mirror, I needed to see myself reflected by other means, in the words of someone on the end of a google search. I'm pleased she's alive.

She thanks me. We make valedictions. But we have always made valedictions.

Categories: journal, google, fiction, mirror,
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