by Kathy Fish
They are watching a movie about a man who cheats on his wife, whom he loves, and is so disconsolate that his wife eventually loses all patience and leaves him. They are at the point in the film where the man considers his many blunders as he walks along a rocky shoreline carrying what looks to be a large vase. The director of the film is Yugoslavian.
They have argued through dinner and through the night and now it's nearly dawn. They have no eyes for subtitles. The musical score unnerves them. It is exactly the sound of an accordion squeezing the life out of a kitten.
The woman rolls off the couch and lies on the floor. The light in the room changes. Through the window, the clouds resemble dove's feathers. The man stretches his legs out. He mutes the television and chuckles. She thinks he muted the television to make sure she would hear him chuckle.
“I'm going out there,” she says, pointing. “I'm going to put my boots on and go for a walk.”
The disconsolate man's face fills the screen but the couple is no longer watching. The subtitles flash in quick succession.
“And when I get back, I'm taking a shower,” she continues. “And you, Laughing Man, you can do whatever you want.”
The man in the film stares. The screen is clear of words. His gaze is urgent and equable.
“Are you listening to me?” she asks. She has not gotten up. She has not put on her boots.
“It's all here,” he says, tapping his forehead. “It's been archived.” He chuckles again, eyes closed.
The room brightens. She stands and hovers over him. He is sleeping. She splays the fingers of one hand and lowers them to his face. The click and whoosh of the furnace makes her jump. She turns to the television. The disconsolate man has waded into the surf. He cocks the vase back in his palm and heaves it in a wide arc into the sea.
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Originally published in the sadly now gone Cranky magazine and reprinted in TOGETHER WE CAN BURY IT. This story was written up as a "Fictionaut Fave" by Sam Rasnake, who reprinted his review on his blog here: http://wp.me/p1uQz4-Ku
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i like the way the film and their lives mingle here. very good stuff. thanks for sharing.
Wowee, a great few days on fictionaut. This one is just black and white perfect.
"They have no eyes for subtitles. The musical score unnerves them."
The overlap is earned and right.
Thanks Alan and James. I'm trying to jump back in here...
Too many treasures:
"The woman rolls off the couch and lies on the floor. The light in the room changes. Through the window, the clouds resemble dove’s feathers."
oh lord, this is just gorgeous.
Kath- this story is so spooky i need to re-read it, the life imitating art imitating life just keeps rebounding and rebounding. oh lord.
I agree, about the overlap. This is lovely, lingering.
thanks, Meg and Claudia!
so fluid with such weight. i love what you don't include, namely the cause of their argument. this is really beautiful - thanks for putting it up!
thanks for reading, Lauren!
This is a great one, Kathy-- one of my favorites from the book. "It is exactly the sound of an accordion squeezing the life out of a kitten." Wow. Somehow, I know exactly what that sounds like.
thanks so much, Matt
I recently read a quote somewhere from a flash fiction writer saying that short shorts shouldn't have dialogue. I disagree, and love that you use so much dialogue here. I also appreciate the weave of foreign film and "real life", and the further nod to "what they're not getting" where the couple won't read the subtitles.
"She thinks he muted the television to make sure she would hear him chuckle." Ha! Well done, and thank you.
thanks for reading, Ethel! I've never heard that idea of no dialogue in short shorts...pffft, I love dialogue.
ditto on the pffft
Kathy,
I remember reading this a long time ago and it has stuck with me...
Brava!!
--Richard
Hey Richard, hi and thanks!
Coming in late for a big PFFT on the dialogue and if there's any doubt we should send this story to that writer.
Thanks, kindly, for the support Mr. Erlewine. I'm also partial to harumphing.
Harumphing works well, you do have a point there.
LOVE THE ENDING BECAUSE IT IS BOTH VIOLENT AND BEAUTIFUL.They have no eyes for subtitles indeed.The woman rolls off the couch.I'm going to put my boots on. A threat or a plea?She splays the fingers of one hand and lowers them to his face. Wow! Scary and again kind of beautiful. The pop of the furnace is a nice touch--very mundane and yet instills the right amount of mystery into the narrative.
Thank you, Darryl!
lovely
I love when she splays her fingers over his face. Talk about cinematic, unusual, erotic, the blocked out husband, hands being instruments of touch but also shields. And the contrapuntal plot lines of film and marriage and how the film fills in the gaps of what has happened, but is it the man or the woman? I don't need to know. You're so damn good, Kath.
Thank you kindly, Pia!
I remember this one. Love it, Kath!
An amazing piece. Reading this - in particular the second half - made me think of Bergman's Through a Glass Darkly. Great form and delivery to this story.
Sam, thanks so much!
This really captured me! Can't stop thinking about "He cocks the vase back in his palm and heaves it in a wide arc into the sea."
wild, wild, wild
thanks so much, Susan!
I admire what you have at play here – it works so well!
Thanks so much, Kari!
Just read this again, it's THAT GOOD. A little bit between that Woody Allen film where the characters jump in and out of the movie screen, but yours smacks of Bergman. There is always a strong mood-texture to your work that is palpable
Susan! Above and beyond, this second read and comment. Thank you so much.
Sam Rasnake kindly reprinted his review of the story for Fictionaut Faves on his blog today: http://wp.me/p1uQz4-Ku
This story appears in my collection, TOGETHER WE CAN BURY IT, a 2nd printing of which will be available in April. Thanks for your wonderful comments and support, F'nauters!
A piece of writing that is ever so close to perfection. Great to revisit it here.
Splendid story. And may I please paraphrase this sentence for use in personal conversations? "It is exactly the sound of an accordion squeezing the life out of a kitten." *
Hey, this is a nice surprise. Thank you, Beate, and yes, you have full permission to use that sentence in conversation. ; -)