i want your hitchcock.
and then she stumbled home on beer. confused and without reason and stared at what she'd done for hours until it became something that was unfamiliar. it used to be green but now it was gray and red and the sky had become puzzled slits of yesterday when clouds would take shape and get called names by pointed fingers. whatever happened to the meteors and flying saucers of small towns? what ever? whatever. they all scattered with the gusts from nearby big-mouths and small minded wonderers and she asks the universe knowing that there is no intelligible answer. but what if it could whisper for just one second...and her mind caught the passing thought and held on? what if she could stay up late and stare out her big windows and make life mean a little bit more tonight when she smiled for the camera or the joke or the conversation that ended with a meter between their goodbyes?
it was nice. with oranges in the glass.