Night Letters from the Underground
I had an old Underwood typewriter on which I composed my first novel, kept it ever ready with a blank page. It was a magical machine and haunted. Brautigan's ghost lived inside, as did Saroyan's and Neruda's. They would sip grape Kool-Aid like it was Maneschewitz and talk for hours about duende. Lorca was there too, sneered most of the time, and only spoke once, while Neruda tried to bogart the Kool-Aid.
"Duende..." he said, "...what do you know of duende? The three of you together could not begin to comprehend it. It is laughable to imagine you would try. A wasteland dweller, a beach bum, a fisher of trout? I think not."
Impassioned as he was, his voice was loud and lyrical. The cords of his neck were all duendish and taut. We gave him a standing ovation, but Lorca would only shrug.
Raskolnikov and Lizaveta also lived in that typewriter. As ghosts, they became lovers. Rodion would strum the Underwood keys like a balalaika and Lizaveta would sing.
I had to pawn the typewriter back in 1979 and moved far away before I could redeem it. I miss it... the Underwood, the empty page, Lizaveta's sweet song.
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Author's Note
The original version. Very old and widely, wildly unpublished.
Other stories by James Lloyd Davis
- A grocery list found in a pocket at the end of another story
- The tenth point of possession being this... Rev2
- I fall out of love, learn not to worry, and get ready to embrace the foreign war...
- Trout Fishing in America Shorty lives on after the death of his dear friend Richard Brautigan, though sadly
- Trying to remember something else, I recall supreme and utter solitude in a far off time and place
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Love this.
Lisaveta was the landlady, right? It's been so long I don't remember.
Wonderful way to honor.
Lizaveta was the pawnbroker's daughter and an innocent bystander... collateral damage when Raskolnikov did the deed.
Rodion was Raskolnikov's nickname, so to speak.
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A love song to literature, well sung.
Excellent.
*fav this fiercely tugs at me to write and explore so finely the ppl you are etching out in word dust and coal, I love how you write, oh how I love how you write!!!!
Thank you, everyone.
Beautiful!