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..:: CONTENTS ::..
   Volume V, Issue I

..:: POETRY ::..

..:: PROSE ::..
..:: OTHER ::..

..:: ETC ::..
   Contributor's Notes

..:: ARCHIVES ::..
   Volume I, Issue I
   Volume I, Issue II
   Volume II, Issue I
   Volume II, Issue II
   Volume III, Issue I
   Volume III, Issue II
   Volume IV, Issue I
   Volume IV, Issue II


from The Selves
James Sanders


Episode 284.
She was hive-like with lilac eyes. Lurleen Berlin's eyes were never a second time. They were without her from all sides. They were familiar. They were familiar from her. They were frowns that sparkled. They never sparkled. She was never at her house anymore. Frank O was still at her house. He would sit in his car in front of her house with his notes. His notes were slim. The notes were internal and stared back at him.
There was an element of the foreign about Lurleen Berlin. There was the familiar about Lurleen Berlin. What she was just about missing was the too, the also. Her wigs were always straight too. There was always a smidge of shade in them. Somewhere in one of Frank O's sketches of one of the reports he was preparing on Lurleen Berlin was a metaphor involving a competition of kudzu and wisteria against each other. This was a metaphor that was in relation to Lurleen Berlin in some way in that sketch. The kudzu and the wisteria were competitors for sunlight, two vines racing each other upwards and over each other. There was an extension of the metaphor by comparing kudzu and wisteria to the colors in a game of go with the need to surround and choke off but to do it behind the back. There was the desire to grow secretly. The growth was quick but patient. The growth was secretest at the extremities. The concept that Lurleen Berlin was both kudzu and wisteria was that she was a plural rather than a singular. She was not unitary she was binary. The binary was two asymmetrical parts. Both of the parts were not in harmony. They were not strata.
On the set of the movie Frank O. was one day. Lurleen Berlin was there that same day. Frank O was there talking with Keanu Reeves. There was a fiction that was around him whenever Lurleen Berlin was around him. The friction was a fog that was thingless. There were buttons and lights in the fog but no lights. The lights were in places on the set that condensed everything. Frank O was all over the place. Lurleen Berlin was near Frank O. now when he was talking to Keanu Reeves. Lurleen Berlin was in white pants with no belt around them. There was no fiction around him. After a brief hello to Frank O. in which Lurleen Berlin's eyes were across from Frank O's with nothing between them, she asked be introduced. This was something Frank O. did with his hips and shoulders opening so that they formed a line between the two of them and with his arm which shoveled the air from Lurleen Berlin to Keanu Reeves. After smiling that she was a friend of the Blob Keanu Reeves and Lurleen Berlin were stuck in a conversation. They were stuck in a lithe encrustation. The edges of the encrustation were thin and ear raised. There was small talk that erased itself from memory every 30 seconds or so. There was a reluctance in Lurleen Berlin when there shouldn't have been. There was no real reluctance. There was a laughter that was not really laughter. The laughter was underneath invisible from the verdant racecourse. There were no silver apples.
At some point Keanu Reeves excused himself and was not there anymore. He was still there, but he was knee deep in his script, with his right hand on his chin and the script on the little table in front of him. There was a little table in front of his chair that was no bigger than a period. Though not talkative there were periods of time when Lurleen Berlin was electric. There was a dark electricity that made all her fingers flicker and her eyes ounce. For periods of time Lurleen Berlin was dormant in all her parts. For other periods of time she was electric. The electricity was elastic. Her eyes were elastic orchards that were vinily dry. At this point in time there was a back and forth between those two periods like there were two magnets that did not permit the metal indicator to rest. Lurleen Berlin was some kind of magnet. Lurleen Berlin was not a magnet. A bird with something sagging in its mouth flew over the set.

Episode 285.
The hive made the "eye sound". There were eyes in the quilts. All of the furniture in Betty Leathers' house was covered in quilts. There were facts that could not escape from the quilts. The furniture quietly breathing under the quilts was milky. The sexual breaders were humming like fairy princesses. Betty Leathers' icy breath was a hum in which rain fell with hot coils. The wow factor was soily and silver. Tuna fish in a silver tin. Kitty with an extra chin eyeing
The "eye sound" was loose and without nouns. Betty Leathers' breath was without breath. Betty Leathers eyes were without sound. The sound was without any edges. The edges were bottomless down into a shadow from which no shadow could escape.
The "eye sound" was so lounge in the architecture. So it was how you knew someone. How you knew someone was someone that knew themselves. Someone with certain things in the right places. The light in certain places was not from the bathroom. There was no sound that came from them. They were covered in sound. Leisure is covered in not being inside. Sequestered with leisure with everybody in brown.* Nobody looked at anybody.
Betty Leathers' eyes were red and round as she and her kitty** locked the front door behind her with her dark clothes and

*The brown was gold.

**Her kitty's name was Kitty. Kitty was invisible.

Her eyes were often a warning to him, such as the time he almost touched a sneezeguard where a sticky bun was leeched on. It was a warning that would turn his blood to arrows some of which had points and some of which had suction cups. The next step would be that some of his eyes would become big and flat and pile on hers. There would be something emotionally abusive he would do to her at the bottom. It would be a cube he would rub until unable to tell which direction the motion was coming from. Hours later he would cut up an Arby's coupon and give it to her in some effort intended to let her know that contrite was where he was coming from. There was a moon with its mental sleeve. Duckie Wall's cologne of choice was Stormy Leather. The cologne's smell was something that would make you lose your voice if you were around it. At work Duckie Wall arrived with a cup of coffee that was opaque and an Arby's coupon stuck on his jacket sleeve. His jacket was the color of a peep which was aimed at a television. The television was not being watched by anyone, stuck among the long black trees with nothing but their silhouettes infected from the moonlight.

Episode 287.
She was indifferent to sticky buns. Betty Leathers was indifferent to sticky buns. She was not quite indifferent to sticky buns. One day as she walked around there was a transparent sticky bun wrapper stuck to her back. When the assistant at her office told her the wrapper was there, she tried to get it off, twirling like a highlander at a sock hop. The twirling was in front of a file cabinet. On the file cabinet was a bottle of cabernet. The bottle was translucent and black. In the file cabinet there was nothing but sticky buns.


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