Thursday, April 20, 2006


Ok, yeah, that's Joey Buttafuocco, esq., over there to the right, scowling majestically. It's not me. At least not physically. Spiritually, maybe. If indeed it can be said Mr. Buttafuocco is a spiritual creature, if he has that divine spark. I think he does. Maybe it means I do too.


Rain today but a pleasant rain, generally. Running errands, before it began, just before, rushing home, and a young girl shouting to me, "You're going to get drenched."

Yes, probably.

But I made it under an overhang and waited a few minutes for the shower to pass and headed home through the new air.


Eating lunch today, I sat behind a young, single mother with her little boy, probably age 7. The mother looked up, surprised to see her ex.

"I can't believe you came over here," she said, looking back down to her food.

And that's all I could hear, at least in the sense of discernible words. They spoke quietly, through obvious hurt, and it was all tone, posture, eye contact, that spoke all.

Sometimes you don't need words at all.


RageMonkey said...
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RageMonkey said...

I mean... "spark"...hmmm. This too warrants further consideration. Joey may have "spark"

cK said...

Hmm. With that lovely observation of the ex-couple, if only the man had said something rash and ultimately self-emasculating; if only he'd done something final, such as throw a pepper shaker, and the young woman would have said "That's it! That's it!" it could be a Carver story.

It would be called "Sometimes You Don't Need Words At All."

I jest, yes, but, c'mon: I love Carver stories.