Julia
by Bill Yarrow
One day she took a lover, a Québécois
mortician, who mollified her spirit as he
mortified her flesh. She found her escape
in a letter from her sclerotic brother whose
neurosis demanded companionship. She'd
fly to Escondido to be his renewal. On her
way to the airport, her cab was rear ended
by a bus. She suffered three broken bones.
Six months later, she was teaching theology
to refugees from EST. Her brother was in rehab,
his prognosis good. She felt healthy and happy.
No clouds anywhere. Pseudocyesis does that.
Delightful. A wonderful romp! *
Great span, Bill - and the writing is understated. Very effective. Doesn't miss a beat. *
So much sadness in such short space. I feel her humiliation as she runs from an mature male-female relationship toward the safety of sibling-hood, and then into the protective bubble of motherhood. And worse, she seems to believe that she's ended up happy, though it'll eventually fade and she'll have to deal with her humiliation.
It's true. *
This little piece covers a lot of time, but it all fits in just right. Nicely done! *
Effective, minimalistic writing. *
Thanks, Jake, Sam, Ted, Gloria, Foster, and Amanda for commenting and liking!
Too difficult for me, though I like it, without Ted's guide (that works for me). *
I like the arc and scope of this, and the playfulness of language, especially those first few lines.*
I think this is brilliant, And EST!! I hadn't thought about EST in decades!
Great command of language.
"mollified her spirit as he
mortified her flesh" So much character and backstory compacted in so little space. Wow.
Thanks, kind folks: Ann, Gary, Gita, and Emily!
Wry. *
Thanks, Beate!