In the blacklight of the storm, mother would tremble, spit and sway as the shutters would clatter and she would give away her balance. It was more than my heart could bear. She would always center her accusation with, “your boyfriend is a rake and a flam.” That is the way she handled all the men I littered the house with. What the fuck is a flam? I still wonder.
Succinct with much roiling beneath the surface. Is a flam related to a flim?*
Gary's got a step on me today. I was gonna say a flam was the yang to the flim's yin, or something. The image of "mother" teetering in the storm's "blacklight" is vivid, raucous with Melvillian drama. *
great!
From an online dictionary. Flim flam is "probably of Scandinavian origin; compare Old Norse flīm--mockery, Norwegian flire--to giggle." So its to make fun of someone by conning them?
Another strong, tight piece, David. You flipped my assumption about the narrator's sex. I've been flim-flammed.*
With a litter of men in the house it's no wonder she became unbalanced. *
A very rich paragraph, David.
I love the contrast of the trembling mother and littering the house with men. Very funny. Fave*