the still passenger sits on a train, on the window seat, in the middle of a long car. these are the days when there were drive-in movie theaters dotted across the landscape. at dusk, the images on the screen appear off in the distance. the images presented here are those which are glimpsed, the ones that still her thoughts. the train rolls along. the landscape seems to move, but doesn't. the still passenger sits alone with her snapshots in her mind. she's filling in the spaces.
September 23, 2013
we don't seem to have a cause anymore. do we?
there was a target hanging in my room when i checked in.
i burned a hole in the bullseye with my cigarette.
we have no need for guns here. in some ways, we are above of it all.
September 22, 2013
how
do you remember
our last kiss?
there are surprises on this side. different from the surprises on the other side.
and details. exhausting details. but you got to look.
September 21, 2013
we had a promise. vienna. 1948.
i could sense that you were very close.
two weeks later you were standing outside my door.
we spent ten days and nights in vienna. 1948. room 84.
it was too good to last. you disappeared for the first time.
i told you that we would see each other again and again and again.
September 20, 2013
that night i drank myself to oblivion.
i was silent at the bar. i was silent all day.
i was thinking about you,
and about my new face in the morning.
September 19, 2013
i was looking for you! i looked like a suit. in vienna. 1948.
absurd. the next day i was a soldier. now the shadow was following me.
September 18, 2013
i was waiting for you to appear in vienna in 1948.
half the time i'm still a shadow. you looked so small through the peephole.
i am big. it's the pictures that got small.
i was listening to the lullabies of old broadway. in vienna. in 1948.
i was sleepwalking in vienna in 1948.
September 17, 2013
adelle, i saw you in blue in vienna in 1948.
look! everyone is blue in vienna in 1948.
September 16, 2013
i turned blue in vienna.
September 15, 2013
i remember dancing. i slipped my partner a key. room 84.
i put it in his hand and covered his hand with mine.
room 84. january 26th. 1948. full moon. vienna.
i felt like i was in a half-tub of water. facing down. i could breath. there were no revelations.
arthur said that he was a shadow for a time. no one else seemed to see him.
he played with light to pass the time. he was paranoid then. he is paranoid now.
September 14, 2013
arthur had crossed a line for a vicious cause. the cops were looking for him for weeks.
we were not romeo and juliet. but i loved him. i couldn't live without him.
i was going to kill arthur before the cops got to him. the audience wouldn't accept it.
