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.
May 9, 2014
knocked.
i don't know if she is home.
i lose track of adele sometimes.
May 8, 2014
mabuse!
i can never take my eyes off of his.
he does something to the light.
he steals minds without blinking.
if i could only take my eyes off of his.
May 7, 2014
rip murdock was driving too fast.
it was dark.
it was raining.
dusty begged him to slow down.
but rip put his foot to the pedal.
he knew that he would make it.
he knew he had more mileage left.
May 6, 2014
it started in the funhouse. san francisco. 1947.
arthur bannister was there,
our images duplicating and duplicating,
like a bad, dark, drunk night.
May 5, 2014
May 4, 2014
i could hardly believe my eyes.
i had to look twice.
it was doctor riedenschneider walking down the street.
he regrets listening to the music at the cafe.
he regrets watching the dancer too long.
he should be in jail.
he must be one of us. there is no other explanation.
May 3, 2014
i am watching you.
when you close your eyes,
you see romance,
and more romance.
when you open them,
you throw salt
over your left shoulder.
May 2, 2014
i had a rough night,
but i woke up refreshed.
right away the card slides under the door.
it is a postcard from pisa. it is very late. it is from milos.
he is back at the depot now. he looks in the mirror.
May 1, 2014
dr. olson says that our sense of identity has been shaken.
