Neuschwanstein
Why do I, neither woman nor gay man, wonder what kind of husband he makes? Do I have grounds for inadequacy?
The receptionist watches him walk away. I imagine her tatting his name into something for the radiator of her ancient apartment. It will be cream-colored, tense with energy. She wants him to pilot the journey, hunched forward in the motorcar. She will be his twelfth wife, her pale feet paler still in the chill waters of the Wiesesee.
This is the gift that age brings: even as the sirens' blue shift unsteadies her, her palms are tender as talc.
|
6
favs |
1666 views
8 comments |
101 words
All rights reserved. |
Author's Note
Meg's prompt words again. A little fantasy for you.
Other stories by Cooper Renner
Tags
Comments
You must
log in
to post comments.
nobody else does this what you do.
"This is the gift that age brings: even as the sirens' blue shift unsteadies her, her palms are tender as talc."
I was going to write what Meg wrote.
I'll add this:
"her pale feet paler still in the chill"
"She wants him to pilot the journey, hunched forward in the motorcar." Yes. fave
Love this--all the way through. *
So much in a few lines. Loved some of the lines in this.
*
A splendid fantasy--a gentle mind fantasizing, full of innocence and experience.
You are all so kind. Thank you very much.
Cooper, this is a wonderful blend of surprises, twists, the use of such effective language and powerful observation. Fave.