This is for Cherie and domystic, who everyone should have on their lists. Among other things, Cherie Priest saves kittens, tosses out some stunning fiction and generally has sweet stories to tell. domystic is a strong enchanting education in warnews, medicine, and life, brilliant in her views like the sun.
It’s been a warm December, walking in the pouring rain at midnight is a lush experience, a luke-warm shower of welcome water. Death by frostbite doesn’t happen here, even now you can leave the house in a t-shirt. Coming back from successful bridesmaid fabric shopping with Jenn, I started dancing to wakka-chicka music in my head, starship disco dive seventies sex music setting my feet tapping. I twirled on a corner to discover a new theater going up, an old style one, showing foreign films and old movies in the place where the ARTISTE Cafe & Gallery used to be. I never ate there, but I knew it well. The place made me think of Nathanial every time I passed. He painted the lettering on the window five or six summers ago. Looking about, however, I found the block lined with cars from the sixties. Cover blown. My first idea’s too interesting for this city, I thought, the woman who lipstick smirked at me on the corner through quick drags of her cigarette must be on perimeter watch for a film-set. I found it farther up, clots of people and equipment blocking foot-traffic and someone asked for my autograph.