Tuesday, January 03, 2012

2012-020 More Tuesday Prompts

A brief, fruitless search

A front-porch conversation

A sort of oblong blur

After the relatives had gone

Atkinson, that critic from New York

But now I had this expert before me

Carrying their inane notions

Coloured light played on his face

For a walk through the neighbourhood

Glanced past me at the windows

Growing grimmer by the minute

He asked if we had any questions

He pursed his lips

Her mother would probably collapse with guilt

I eagerly asked what he meant

I have a duty to tell you

I saw them now as victims

I think we had better conclude now

It oppressed both of us

Later that evening

Marriages such as these never last

Mary and I escaped

Mary led me to the priest's office

Negroes walking

Putting me through all this

She apologised

She seemed grim and daunted

Some touch of the Church's admonitions

The ban on birth control

The Church required of them

The pretense we had to play out

The unremitting heat of the night

Their decorum, their subservience

This mysterious entity

We can take this up again the next time we meet

He did not know the Holy Ghost

His eyes flickered with resentment

We could end up as friends

We set upon marriage

A desiccation of spirit

A new surprise each day

We took instruction

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