rlbourges

Rumors, gossip, hearsay

In Artists, Circus, Collage, Drafts, Hautvoir, Music on March 16, 2014 at 8:18 am

Back to the post-referendum Goldilocks. (The Bears held the referendum. It was their house. She had no business there.)

Goldilocks. Out in the woods. The same forest as Red Riding Hood’s? There’s one possibility. The girls meet up. Share the stories weighing down on their hearts, the way I did with a local friend last night. She’s tall and skinny. I’m short and plump. We don’t overindulge in the confidential stuff; but since there’s not a single other soul in this town to whom we’d entrust some of the knowledge, we walk away from the crowd, every so often, for a session of can you believe this?

Small town. Small, small town. Maybe I’d have more customers at my workshops if people understood fiction is the place where you make up stories about other people. Alas, writing fiction is demanding, even when it’s fun.

We laughed at some of the horrors going around about her.  Hollow sound to the laughter – yes.  Laughter nonetheless. Easier to carry off  if you know who you are. Helps if you know one other person who sees things the way you do, at least, on essentials.

Earlier, at a friend’s graveside, we sang, recited poems.  I spoke the words to the prayer/poem May You Always Walk in Beauty. Sang a few Russian, Yiddish and Hebrew songs because no one else at graveside could contribute those. We mixed the serious and the silly. Indian chants and drums, old French hits, children’s rhymes. Old Black Joe, Waltzing Matilda, Elle m’a dit d’aller siffler là-haut sur la colline.

Words to heal some of the hurts.

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