Fear and Trembling
Others look at us as if they still can’t decide whether we’re suspects or victims. An old pair of sneakers dangles from the power line like a clue. Everything, as the first law of ecology states, is connected, the whoosh of cars and an involuntary hard-on and also the shadowy approximation of a halo. The worst problem isn’t the fear. It’s the trembling. If we begin to run, the neighborhood dogs object. I can’t remember now why I ever thought this was just another one of those movies about two damaged people who find each other.
The turmoil is invisible. I click a link to See Translation. Soon everyone I love may be half-deaf from the long-term effects of ambient noise – guns and blood and dead girls. Language itself is a kind of treachery. Why perhaps a horse’s ears quiver. I’m wise enough not to say what I think, but not wise enough not to think it.